Tears of a Stranger
by TheRealRenee
Summary: A horror story unfolds, causing someone to question their sanity... Lita/Edge, Trish/Jeff, Matt, Jericho, Christian, Heyman
1. Default Chapter

  


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_December 4, 1998 - Queens, New York___

The young woman glanced continuously over her shoulder as she quickened her steps. _Damn, I should have walked back with one of the guys, _she thought. She wondered why winter nights in the northeast had to be so bitterly cold and dark. She _hated _this time of year, favoring summer as her season of choice. 

She cursed herself for having decided to _walk _back to her destination. It was too cold and miserable outside. She should have caught a cab, or even taken a bus. Although it had yet to snow, the wind chill was fierce and unbearable, and she was sorry she hadn't brought a scarf with her. Next time, she'd know better. 

Her guard instantly went up as she became aware of a pair of headlights slightly to her left and behind her. They seemed to be moving too slowly for a car's normal speed, and the woman feared some creep was following her. She picked up the pace of her steps even more, turning her head to glare at the jerk behind the wheel - but she couldn't see the driver because of the darkly-tinted windows. As her heart began to quicken, she told herself not to panic. But tinted windows on cars had always made her feel uncomfortable - you couldn't see the people inside, but _they _could see _you _- which seemed unfair. 

Suddenly, the lights were cut, and she calmed down a bit, thinking that the person had grown tired of intimidating her. Or maybe he lived on this block or nearby and was parking. Maybe... 

The young woman tried to whirl around in shock as she was suddenly grabbed by the arm from behind. She struggled, yelling at her assailant, but she couldn't get a good look at his face - that was due thanks to the black ski mask he wore. 

She started to scream, but the wind picked up, blowing into her face and nearly suffocating her. The attacker grabbed her around the waist, and, to her horror, began carrying her away. She tried to fight back, to struggle, but he was so strong! 

He literally threw her into the backseat of his car, and she began to scream again. The man seemed furious as he struck out at her, ordering her to shut up. She went for the lock on the opposite backseat door, silently praying it would lead to her escape, but the madman lifted up a heavy object, striking her in the side of the head. Because she'd lost her hat in the fracas, she had nothing that could have braced her against the blow. Everything quickly grew black as she lost consciousness, slumping into silence in the seat. 

* 

She opened her eyes after what felt like hours later. Her head hurt like hell, and as she roused, she was momentarily disoriented - but only for a moment, as it all came back to her. The man...the car...he had grabbed her, thrown her into the backseat - _kidnapped _her. 

She realized she was lying on a cold, concrete floor, which felt cold because she'd been stripped down to her bra and panties. She shivered as she sat up quickly, glancing around furtively, eyes wide with fright. Where the hell _was _she? 

"So, Sleeping Beauty is finally awake," a voice droned nearby, and the young woman finally caught sight of the bastard. He was standing, arms crossed, across the room at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Evidently, she was in his basement. She shrank back against the wall fearfully as she stared at him with loathing. 

"Where the hell am I? Who the hell _are _you? What do you want from me?!" 

"Sorry - can't tell you where you are, my name is John, and I think you already _know _what I want from you," he replied in a monotone. His voice thoroughly chilled her to the bone. 

"I want to get _out _of here!" she yelled. "You can't do whatever it is you've got in mind. And so help me, if you try anything, I'll kick your God damn ass!" 

"Oh, you're a feisty one...but I already knew you were. That's only one of the things that drew me to you." He began inching toward her, each step tentative. 

The woman crawled backward as far as she could manage, her eyes never wavering from him. He _knew _her - or more aptly, he'd _seen _her. She could easily guess _where_ he'd seen her before and imagined it had been on multiple occasions. She suddenly noticed he held something in his hand and stood up abruptly, glaring up at him. "Get away from me! What do you think you're going to do?" 

"This is just a precaution," he replied calmly. "Just in case you get the idea to try anything funny." He made a grab for her, and, with her back to the wall, there was nowhere for her to go. He had her cornered. She struggled in his grip, screaming and kicking out at the man with her right leg. 

The man roughly yanked her as he tried to reposition the object he held. The woman suddenly realized it was duct tape. "No!!!" 

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," he said. "I don't want to have to hurt you to shut you up." 

"Fuck you, bastard!" she shouted, spraying him with spit in the process. 

The man quickly responded by backhanding her. The woman fell silent, slumping to the floor as she suddenly passed out from the combination of the force from the blow and the shock of what was happening to her. 

"That's better..." Without another word, he knelt and began to tape her wrists and ankles together, whistling while he worked. Afterward, he left the basement, and the unconscious girl lying there. He would be back soon enough...   
  
  
  
  


**Part 2**

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	2. Chapter 2

  


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_August 28, 2000_

"Hey, that was fun tonight," Adam Copeland chuckled as he regarded Amy Dumas playfully. He was referring to coming out from the back during RAW is WAR, along with his best friend and tag team partner, Jay Reso. The two of them, as WWF Tag Team Champions Edge and Christian, had attacked Women's Champion Lita, who had only moments before, successfully defended her title against Jacqueline. 

"Oh, so you _enjoyed _spearing me two nights in a row, did you?" Amy asked her friend, an amused smile on her face. 

"Oh, immensely," Adam joked. 

Amy shook her head, rolling her eyes heavenward, but her smile grew into a fully-fledged grin. She elbowed the tall blond man in the arm playfully. "I can't wait to hurricanrana you next." 

"What a coincidence...neither can I," Adam said, a devious grin on his handsome face. 

Amy stretched her legs out in front of her on the bed upon which they sat. They were in Adam's hotel room watching an old dracula movie starring Bela Lugosi. She ran her hand through her long red hair as she thought about the situation. 

She and Adam had become fast friends ever since she'd joined the WWF nearly seven months earlier. At the same time, she had to acknowledge the deeper feelings she held for the tall Canadian. Before they'd met, she'd seen him on the WWF's TV shows, and had even seen pictures of him from her close friends Matt and Jeff Hardy, and she'd always thought he was the epitome of a beautiful man. Even back then, she'd had sort of a crush on him. And then, when she'd actually _met _Adam, she had felt like some giddy junior high school girl. It wasn't that she'd made a fool of herself in front of him or anything, but she got all warm and fuzzy inside as she'd gazed at him. 

And during all this time, she'd managed to fall in love with the man. 

"Hey, do you want something to drink?" Adam asked, breaking through her reverie. For that, Amy was actually grateful. If she dwelled too much on her feelings for him, she would only be reminded of how untouchable he was to her. He was so much _better_ than she was - why would he ever want _her_? Then, she found herself shocked over that thought, as she had never been an insecure or self-effacing type of person. Still, why would a man like Adam Copeland want a tomboy like Amy Dumas when he could have his pick of beautiful divas. She sensed that Trish Stratus had the hots for him. 

"Hey," the blond man said with a small smile. "Did you hear me just now?" 

"Yeah...sorry, I was just thinking," the redhead replied as she looked up to meet his amazing emerald-green eyes. She felt as though she could just melt or drown in them. "A drink? Sure, why not?" 

Adam rose from the bed and went to one of his bags in a corner of the hotel room. He came up with a bottle, holding it up at her as he returned by her side. "I have some champagne left over from last night...Jay and I got a couple of bottles after the TLC match. It went so well, and we were so happy we were able to keep our championships that we decided to splurge." 

"Cool..." Amy smiled at him, then turned around to grab two plastic cups that were lying on the nightstand by the bed. "...I can't remember the last time I had champagne. Actually, I _can_...it was when my cousin got married three years ago." 

Adam snickered as he began to pour her a cup of bubbly. "And let me take a wild guess - you were one of her bridesmaids and were forced to wear a hideous dress...oh, let's see - what color would it have been? Orange?" he teased. 

"You're wrong on more than one count," the redhead said, smirking as she eyed him with amusement. "Number one, I wasn't a bridesmaid, number two my dress wasn't a hideous color - definitely not _orange..._and third, the cousin in question is a guy." 

The tall blond laughed heartily as he poured himself some champagne. "You're too much!" 

Amy smiled as she took her first sip of the drink. She wasn't much of a champagne drinker, as she'd only had it a total of three times in the past, but she thought this was pretty good stuff. 

As she continued drinking, she wondered how Adam would react if she just leaned over and kissed him. The impulse to do that often came over when they hung out one-on-one. But as she always did, she chickened out and just sat where she was. Before she took it upon herself to make any moves on him, she wanted a sign. Besides, it wasn't her style to make the first move with a man. 

"Hey, look at this," Adam said as he glanced over a cable TV movie card that had been laying on the table by his other side. "Scream is coming on after this - the _first _one...that's the best one." 

"God, you're such a horror movie buff." 

"I am what I am," he replied with a wink. 

For the most part, Amy remained silent during the showing of Scream, except for an occasional gasp of shock or fright. She was known as being very squeamish over gory movies, and just about all of her friends teased her for it. However, Adam relented a bit tonight, actually reaching out to wrap an arm around her during scarier moments in the movie. And when the redhead reached down to grasp his hand during the famed garage scene in which Rose McGowan's character got crushed in the automatic garage door, he didn't pull away. In fact, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. 

When the movie came to an end, Amy knew she was going to have nightmares all night. She just hoped everyone would be kind in case she started screaming in her sleep in the middle of them. 

She hopped off the bed as Adam flipped the television off with its remote control. "Well, that was fun...goodnight." She started to turn for the door, but the blond man grasped her gently by the wrist. 

"Wait...can I talk to you for a minute, Ames?" 

She turned back to face him, and, noting the serious expression on his face, she sat back down on the edge of the bed. If she didn't know better, she could swear that Adam Copeland - normally Mr. Cool, Calm and Collected, looked nervous. She found it kind of cute. 

"What is it, Adam?" she questioned with concern. He really did look uncomfortable about something. Maybe he knew about her feelings for him and was about to tell her he didn't reciprocate them. Maybe he was going to tell her he no longer wanted any late nights of movies - or anything else with her. Maybe... 

"Well, see...the thing is..." Adam nervously ran his hand through his long blond hair. "...err...okay...I feel a little uneasy telling you this even though we're friends and all, but..." 

The diva braced herself for the worst. She held her breath as she didn't dare interrupt him. 

"...I have to be honest with you, Ames. I have had _the _biggest crush on you ever since we met, and I was wondering if...well...if you would go out with me." 

Amy gaped at him, so surprised that her mouth hung open. Had she really heard him correctly? Or was she in reality asleep, and instead of the nightmares she'd been dreading, she was dreaming _this_? 

After a couple of minutes, Adam blushed and looked away. "Okay," he said dejectedly, "you're not answering, so I think I can take the hint." 

"What? No..." Amy began to laugh as she suddenly scooted closer to him. She reached out with both hands to gently turn his head toward her, pulling the Canadian into a kiss. 

Adam's arms instantly encircled her waist, drawing her even nearer to him as he kissed her back. A sense of both relief and surprise overtook him as he became even more passionate and she responded in kind. 

Amy didn't go back to her room that night. Nor did she experience any nightmares of any kind... 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Part 3**

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	3. Chapter 3

  


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_April 14, 2002_

Amy blew out the candles on her beautiful, delicious-looking birthday cake with a happy little laugh. She managed to get all of them out in a single breath, which she thought quite a feat, as it had twenty-seven candles to match her new age. Evidently, her friend Chris Jericho felt the same way - that snuffing every candle at once was an act worthy of admiration and amusement. 

"Wow, she killed every one of those things in a single breath," the mischievous blond said, playfully smacking Adam on the arm. His blue eyes twinkled devilishly as well as merrily. "You're one lucky guy..." 

Adam smirked at his tempest of a friend as Amy laughed again, covering her face with her hands in only semi-mock embarrassment. Leave it to Chris, as always, to come up with some silly sexual innuendo. 

"Did you make a wish, Ames?" her boyfriend asked as he put an arm around her waist. 

She gazed adoringly up into Adam's emerald eyes and smiled. Of course I did, silly..." 

"Good...that means it'll come true..." 

The tall blond exchanged secret, knowing glances with Jay Reso, who stood a few feet away. 

The night was shaping up to be terrific. Although they'd had a house show earlier that afternoon, Adam had managed to plan a surprise party for the redhead's birthday. He hadn't wanted it to be a big deal, knowing his girlfriend would much prefer something smaller and more intimate with only their closest friends. Because they were on the road, the guests consisted solely of fellow WWE superstars. 

As Jeff Hardy elected to slice the cake, Stacy Keibler and Trish Stratus serving it, Amy took the time to slip Adam into an empty corner. 

"I love you! You are just the best...you had all of this planned for months in advance, didn't you?" The diva's hazel eyes glittered happily as she studied the man's telling facial expression. 

"You got me, Ames," he replied with a big grin. "I wanted to surprise you and make you happy." 

"Well, you've succeeded at both," she replied, pressing up against him as she rose her arms to encircle his neck. "Thank you..." 

Adam's arms instantly went around her waist, and he made a low, almost groaning sound deep in his throat as he tugged her even more closely against him, dipping his head to kiss her. She responded instantly, nearly melting as his tongue slid into her mouth and pressed against her own. 

"Hey, you two," a voice suddenly interrupted them. They stopped kissing and looked up to see Chris Jericho standing nearby, watching them with a playful smirk on his face. "You'll have plenty of time for that later...right now, how about some cake?" 

"Nah," Adam mumbled as he turned to gaze down into Amy's eyes dreamily, "I'd rather have more sugar..." 

Amy's smile broadened as she allowed her hand to caress his long, soft blond hair, her eyes locked on his. 

Chris guffawed at Adam's remark, then gladly accepted the plate with birthday cake that Trish suddenly handed him. He shoved a huge forkful into his mouth. "Mmm...good cake..." 

"Hey, my turn..." 

Adam and Amy turned their heads to see Matt Hardy standing near them, his arms open. "Let me hug the birthday girl a little..." 

The redhead giggled as she let go of her boyfriend to hug Matt. Like his younger brother, the dark-haired man was like a big brother to her. She'd been friends with the Hardys for several years and loved them both dearly. 

"Happy birthday, Amy," the elder Hardy said with a smile. "You look really happy." 

"I _am _happy," she said. Then, glancing at Chris, who by now was just cramming the last piece of cake into his mouth, she licked her lips. "You know, I think I _am _going to get some cake...I mean, it _is _my birthday." 

"Here you are," Stacy said as she handed the other woman a slice of it. "You get one with a big rose because you're the birthday girl." 

The redhead smiled, thanking the tall blonde. 

Once everyone was served some cake, Jeff came to stand beside Amy. Putting one arm around her shoulders, he handed her a box he'd held in his other hand. "Open my present first, Ames..." 

She looked into the rainbow-haired man's face with surprise, but not because of the fact he'd gotten her a gift. "Jeff, let me finish eating my cake first!" She laughed, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation when he pretended to pout. 

About twenty minutes later, Amy had opened several gifts from her friends - a new pair of parachute pants from Jeff, a couple of cool mesh shirts in equally cool fluorescent colors from Matt - no surprise they would get her stuff she could wear in the ring - a beautiful gold necklance from Trish, a new, high-tech Discman from Buh-Buh Ray and D'Von Dudley - who'd both known her old one had broken when she'd dropped it a month earlier - a beautiful black cardigan sweater from Stacy, the new Fozzy CD and a pair of tickets and backstage passes to see the band, from who else but Chris - a silver and turquoise bracelet from Nora Greenwald, a lava lamp and the newest Harley Davidson Barbie doll - a collector's item she knew Adam had told him to get her - from Jay, and a slew of others. She thought it strange that she hadn't even yet seen a present from her boyfriend. 

"Hey, Adam!" Chris Jericho called. The tall blond looked at the other man questioningly. "What about _your _gift, or gifts? This woman deserves better than that, you know!" 

The Canadian smirked at his loud-mouthed friend. "I'm getting to that..." 

"You'd better be, Junior..." 

Adam handed Amy a large box, wanting to be discreet about it, but how could one manage that with something so big? He really would have preferred having her open this when they were alone. 

The redhead gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, smiling at the blond before unwrapping the pretty pink foil paper and opening the box. Nestled within, inside fragrant pink tissue paper were several articles of lingerie. 

"Oh, my God," Amy said softly as she held up an exquisitely sheer black lace number. It was a baby doll type nightie with a matching thong by Victoria's Secret. She'd been wanting to get it the moment she'd seen it in their latest catalog. 

"You can say _that _again," Chris quipped, his clear blue eyes wide as saucers as he peered into the box for a better look. He even dared to reach a hand inside - which the birthday girl promptly slapped away. 

"How many thongs did you _get _her?" Jericho questioned, a sly grin on his face as he regarded Adam. 

"Wouldn't you like to know, Chris..." Amy answered for her boyfriend. She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, her expression transforming into a smile before she turned back to Adam. "Thanks, baby...everything is gorgeous." 

"Not half as gorgeous as you are..." 

Most everyone in the room uttered "aww" at the tall blond man's statement, but Jericho let out a "woo" instead. 

"Hey, wait a minute," the self-proclaimed King of the World said after a beat. "Is all that lingerie for _her_, or for _you_?" 

Several people began to crack up. "Hey, man - Chris has a point," Jay said with a laugh as he regarded his best friend. "Although you wouldn't look good in that thing." He pointed at the baby doll and snickered louder, eliciting a booming laugh from Jericho as well. 

"You're hilarious, Jay," the taller man spoke. He smirked at his lifelong friend. 

"It's for both of us, guys..._believe _me," Amy said, a soft smile on her face. "We're both going to enjoy it...oh, are we _ever_..." Her face brightened into a broad grin as everyone who had overheard her words began to "woo" like Chris had a moment earlier. The redhead shifted her gaze to the man she loved, a glint in her hazel eyes. 

After a beat, Adam stepped closer to Amy. "Actually, there _is _something else I have to give you..." He reached into the pocket of his black jeans, then lowered himself to one knee. 

The redhead's eyes and mouth both went wide, and she placed a hand against her mouth as she gasped in surprise. Everyone else reacted similarly - with the exception of Jay, whose face wore a happy, knowing grin. 

The tall blond gazed up into Amy's eyes, taking her hand gently in his. "Baby, we've been together almost two years now...you have made my life sunnier than I ever could have imagined...and I love you more than anything in the world..." 

The diva, rapt, kept her eyes locked on his, the emotion in her face more than evident as tears welled up in her hazel depths. She was so shocked, and she felt she had never loved this man more than at that very moment. 

"...Amy, I want to share my life with you - always...will you marry me?" 

"Oh, my God," the redhead whispered as a single tear cascaded down her left cheek. She suddenly realized that the entire room had grown silent in wait for her response. She nodded happily. "Yes..." 

The joy on Adam's face was crystal clear as he slid the beautiful emerald cut diamond on Amy's finger. The room suddenly burst with cheers and applause from all their friends. The sound was momentarily deafening to the redhead as her brand new fiance rose to sweep her up into his arms. Adam hugged her tightly, and, as her feet left the floor, she laughed and kissed him firmly on the lips. 

"I love you, too, baby." 

* 

A few hours later, after the party ended and all their friends had returned to their own hotel rooms, Amy sat up in bed, examining her new engagement ring. She wondered if Adam had chosen it himself, or if Jay or a salesperson had helped him with his selection. Whatever the case, the ring, with its platinum band and beautifully shaped diamond, was elegant and gorgeous. 

"Hey," Adam said as he stepped back into their room. He'd briefly gone out to return Stacy's jacket, as the leggy blonde had accidentally left it in their room. "There's one more present for you." He held a medium-sized gift-wrapped box in his right hand and laid it on the bed near her. 

Amy cocked her head to the side curiously and reached for it. "Another surprise from _you_?" 

"Nope," the tall blond man replied. "I can't take credit for that one...it was right outside the door when I got back...someone must have left it when I went to Stacy's room." 

The redhead smiled as she pulled the wrapping paper off. "There's no card or name or anything," she observed. She opened the non-descript box, peering inside at its contents. 

"Oh, my God!" Amy brutally shoved the box away, its top dropping from the fingers of her right hand, which was now suddenly shaking. She shrank as far to the opposite side of the bed as she could manage, hazel eyes wide with fright. 

"Ames? What's the matter?" Adam asked with alarm. He moved closer, as he hadn't gotten a view of the present. 

Instead of replying, the young woman suddenly sprang from the bed, making a run for the bathroom. The Canadian stared after her in confusion for a beat, then turned back to the box. He _had _to know what was in there, had to know what had spooked her so very badly. Reaching in and beyond the tissue paper, his hand made contact with something soft and knitted. Adam pulled out the object. 

He found himself staring at a black ski mask. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Part 4**

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	4. Chapter 4

  


* * *

Less than an hour later, Adam had Amy relatively calm as they lay on their hotel bed together. They were laying side-by-side, the redhead's hand feeling small in his as they held hands. Adam ran his thumb gently over her soft skin. 

"Are you sure you're okay now?" he asked with concern, his voice soft. 

"I...I think so," the diva replied. She had vomited violently the moment she'd made it to the bathroom earlier, and her shaking had subsided only a few minutes earlier. Adam had questioned her about her horrified reaction to the ski mask, but, oddly enough, she had only drawn a blank. And then the blond had wondered _why _in hell anyone would give someone a _ski mask_ as a birthday gift. Amy's birthday wasn't even in the winter, at that. It was damn odd, but he supposed it had been given to her as a gag gift. 

The redhead hadn't wanted to keep the thing, either. She'd insisted Adam get rid of it one way or another. She'd said it should be burned, and that she never wanted to lay eyes on it again. 

Amy gently pulled her hand out of the blond man's. Running both hands through her red hair, she sighed. "I just want to go to bed." 

Adam turned on his side to gaze at her. He was disappointed that what had started out as such a pleasant day had ended so bleakly. "Okay..." 

The redhead rose from the bed without another word and sauntered into the bathroom to get ready for bed. When she was done, the tall Canadian went in to do the same, and when he returned, the diva offered him a small smile. 

"Thank you for the great party...it was so sweet." 

Adam's handsome face broke into a smile as he gazed into her hazel eyes. "You don't have to thank me for that." 

"You really surprised me tonight, you know," she said softly, her eyes shifting down to briefly glance at the diamond ring on her left hand. "You couldn't have given me a more beautiful surprise..." 

He raised a hand to her soft cheek and caressed it as he kept his eyes on hers. "I love you, Ames." 

"You know what?" Amy began, all the unpleasantness of what had happened after the party forgotten for the moment as she gazed at him. "I'm not that tired right now...and I want you so bad I can taste it..." 

The blond man began to laugh softly. "Oh, thank _God _for that...I thought I was going to be neglected tonight." 

"Never," she replied. She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer to her, her eyes closing as he pressed his lips to hers. She sighed into Adam's mouth as he gently lowered her onto her back against the pillows, their tongues battling for dominance. 

She was nearly aching for him as she felt him throbbing against her. He was very hard as she lowered her right hand to touch him. "Oh, God..." She pulled almost desperately at the boxers he was wearing to bed, spreading her legs beneath him. 

His need as urgent as hers, Adam reached down to rid himself of his boxers, then he pulled at the thong she was wearing. To his pleasant surprise, Amy had put on the sheer black lace baby doll he had gotten her. She looked so beautiful and sexy in it, and he was feeling grateful she had a thing for Victoria's Secret lingerie. 

Amy kicked the thong off, then spread her legs again, letting out a soft gasp as Adam reached down to rub her. He smiled as he felt how wet she was, and then he lowered his head and began to lavish her most intimate parts with his lips and tongue. 

"Oh, God...Adam..." Her breathing began to get heavy as he prodded away, and she reached down with one hand, gently grabbing a handful of his soft golden hair. She was very close to the brink, and she bit her lip as she suddenly felt one of his hands slide underneath the baby doll to caress her right breast. He proceeded to rub the nipple gently, and it instantly hardened, the feather-soft touch nearly driving her insane. 

Amy suddenly cried out loudy as she came, sitting up a bit as the man she loved continued working on her. She quickly felt a second, then third orgasm rip through her, and she panted, crying out his name as Adam held onto her legs more tightly, intent on her coming yet again. And it happened again. 

"I...need you," she cried. "Oh, God, Adam...I need you..." 

The tall blond man finally lifted his head, smiling as he lay down on his back, gently grabbing her and putting her on top of him. The redhead instantly straddled him, lowering herself on him, and this time it was his turn to gasp. She began to move quickly on top of him, and he added his own thrusts beneath her. The motions caused both of them to come nearly simultaneously. 

Adam cried out Amy's name as he emptied himself into her, his brow furrowing. "Oh, my God," he moaned as she continued to lay over him. Afterward, she got off of him and lay beside him. The blond man snuggled against her, wrapping his arms around her waist, a feeling of happiness coming over him. "I love you." 

"I love you, too, Adam." 

Before too long, they fell asleep in one another's arms. 

* 

_The young woman screamed as the man grabbed her by the back of her head, yanking on her long hair as he tugged her closer to him. His dark eyes looked maniacal as he glared at her. "Don't you ever do that again..."_

_"Fuck you!" The woman would be damned if she wasn't going to fight back._

_One of the man's hands went flying into her face. She stumbled backward on her bare feet as a result of the blow, but didn't fall because of his hand still gripping her hair. She let out a sharp cry of pain._

_"Listen to me..." growled the man, whose name she just remembered was John, "...you are going to behave yourself. You do everything I want you to do _when _I want you to do it, and we won't have any problems...just cooperate."_

_"And you must be stark raving _nuts _if you think I'm going to let you do whatever the hell you want with me without a fight!" she shouted, her throat sore from all of the screaming and yelling she'd been doing. She had no clue how long she'd been in the basement, but she was sure that, in reality, this place had to be hell._

_John shoved her brutally against the wall, holding her in place by her long hair. He quickly moved his hands to her shoulder and shook her wildly, like a ragdoll. The woman's eyes rattled in her head, and she felt slightly dizzy, her head banging once into the concrete of the wall. Pain shot through her, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut upon the impact._

_She felt her bra being yanked down, her breasts suddenly exposed and began screaming again, flinging her arms out in an attempt to ward off the maniac. The man still managed to grab at her, his hands squeezing her breasts painfully, and she cried out in pain and indignation._

_"So beautiful," he said softly, as if mesmerized._

_"No!!!" The woman balled her right hand into a fist and punched him in the face as hard as she could manage. Evidently, he hadn't expected the blow, and he let out a bellow, reaching up with one hand to grab at his cheekbone._

_"Bitch! I'll teach you to hit me!" He grabbed hold of her hair again, yanking hard. She lost her balance, falling to the floor with a thud, her scream cut short as he dragged her across the cellar._

_The man forced her into a bathroom, shoving a plug into the drain of the tub and began filling it with cold water. The young woman again hit him, this time with both hands, but he wouldn't budge. The water quickly rose higher in the tub, and the man shoved her head into it._

_The woman made a conscious effort to hold her breath, her eyes squeezed shut. She kicked her legs, her arms flailing helplessly as he contined to hold her head under. She tried her best not to cry as this torment continued for several seconds that felt a lot longer than they actually were - and then, he pulled her head back up. She sputtered and took a breath, a little whimper escaping her. She felt as though all of this were a terrifying nightmare from which she would awaken at any moment - "Wake up! Wake up!" she shouted to herself in her head - but it didn't happen._

_The man suddenly shoved her head under the water again, and this time, she could hear his maniacal laughter above her. He was enjoying this, the sick, sadistic son of a bitch. It felt like an eternity that he held her under this time, and she prayed she wouldn't suddenly take a breath, taking the water into her lungs and choke - or worst of all, drown._

_John yanked the woman's head back up to the blessed air, and she gulped breath upon breath of it. This time, she couldn't hold back the tears and wracking sobs. Even to her own ears, she sounded like some mournful, perhaps wounded, pitiful animal._

_"Now, now...just be a good girl, and I won't have to do this to you anymore...come on...behave for me, Angelica..."___

* 

Amy awoke suddenly, bolting upright in bed, her breathing hard and fast. She was drenched in a cold sweat, and she raised a hand to her chest as her eyes darted around in the dark. 

"Oh, my God..." 

Her heart was thumping like a kettle drum in her chest - too fast, as if it were trying to beat its way out. She lay back down, noting that Adam hadn't awoken. He appeared to still be sound asleep. 

The redhead curled up on her side, pulling the blanket around herself up to her neck, her hand curled around the edge of it. She swallowed back the bitter bile that had risen up to her throat, squeezing her eyes shut as the oddest feeling came over her. 

It was fairly gradual at first, but then Amy suddenly felt sicker than she'd ever experienced in her life. She turned onto her back, desperately trying to ignore it, but to no avail. Her entire body was awash with a horribly uncomfortable tingling sensation, then went ice cold and boiling hot in succession. She had to get up. 

Amy bolted up and out of the bed, crying out as she tried to run to the bathroom. "Oh, God!" Tears filled her eyes. 

"Amy?" Adam sat up in the bed, having had been awakened by his fiancee's jerky movements and cries. He glanced around the darkness in confusion for a moment, then sprang up as he noticed the redhead stumble slightly near the bed, nearly losing her balance. 

"Oh, my God...what's wrong?" 

She leaned on him for support, and the tall blond realized she was shaking. 

"I think...I'm going to be sick..." She broke free from him and ran to the bathroom. Unable to make it to the toilet in time, she vomited in the sink. The sickening sensation went on and on. It was unendurable. Amy kept throwing up even after all the contents of her stomach were gone, until she was dry-heaving. 

Adam stood slightly behind her and to her left during all of this. He winced, rubbing the young woman's back sympathetically, wishing there was a way for him to eradicate every last bit of her misery. 

"Ames? Baby?" he said softly when she was finally done. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he gently led her to the bed. 

"Oh, God...I'll never get back to sleep now," the redhead said miserably. 

The Canadian turned on the lamp at their bedside, then sat beside her. He noticed she was shaking ever so slightly. 

"Baby? Are you okay? Do you feel better?" 

Her face was pale as she faced him. "I...it was _horrible_, Adam! There was a woman, and she was being attacked by some madman, and-" 

"What? You mean, you had a nightmare." 

"Yes...that poor girl. He was going to...he wanted to rape her..." 

"It was only a dream," Adam said, a sense of relief finally coming over him. She had scared him for awhile there. "Try to go back to sleep, baby..." He put an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek, alarmed that she was still shaking. And then, when he pulled back to study her again, he realized she wasn't merely shaking - she seemed to be twitching, convulsing. 

"Oh, my God," the tall blond breathed. "That's it...I'm taking you to a hospital..." 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Part 5**

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	5. Chapter 5

  


* * *

Adam sat restlessly in the waiting room of the hospital he'd brought Amy to nearly an hour earlier. At first, the redhead had been directed to the emergency room, but a physician's assistant had suggested she be admitted as she'd checked her over. When Adam had questioned her and then asked about his fiancee's condition and the severity of it, the woman had only said she usually had a sixth sense about these things - whatever _that _meant. 

Adam looked up instantly as he noticed in his peripheral vision that someone had come to a stop to stand directly in front of him. 

"Are you with Amy Dumas?" asked a tall blond woman who looked to be in her late thirties. Her voice was soft and gentle, almost melodic. 

"Yes...I'm her fiance," he said, instantly rising to stand in front of the woman. 

"I'm Dr. Perl...it's a good thing you brought your fiancee here, Mr...?" 

"Copeland," he supplied. "Adam Copeland. What's wrong with Amy?" 

The doctor noticed the look of stark worry in the young man's eyes. "It's nothing terribly serious - right now," she said. "First of all, Mr. Copeland, judging by the symptoms she described, Amy seems to have had a panic attack tonight..." 

"What? She doesn't _have _panic attacks." 

"Well, it appears that she had one tonight," the woman said. "The symptoms are classic - the tingling sensation, difficulty breathing, vomiting, excessive shaking...but there is another matter that requires immediate attention." 

"Okay," Adam said impatiently. "And what would _that _be?" He wished the woman would stop beating around the bush and just spit it out already. 

"Amy needs an abortion as soon as possible." 

"_What_?!" The blond man gaped at the physician incredulously. He could have sworn he'd heard her say that Amy needed an abortion, but he must have been mistaken - he must have misheard her. 

The woman felt terrible as she suddenly realized that this was the first the man was hearing of his fiancee's pregnancy. "Yes," she said gently. "Amy is six weeks pregnant. She needs an abortion - because it's an ectopic pregnancy..." 

The color drained from Adam's face as he absorbed the doctor's words. He suddenly felt faint. _Oh, my God... _Amy was pregnant with his child, and he hadn't known about it. And now, the baby would have to be destroyed because it was growing in the fallopian tubes instead of the uterus, where it was _supposed _to be. His mouth went dry as ashes. 

He ran a hand through his long hair, glancing elsewhere for a beat as these realizations ran through his head. "Oh, my God," he said softly. Then, turning back to the woman, he swallowed hard. "Can I...Can I go see her?" 

"Certainly...come with me." 

Dr. Perl led Adam to an elevator, where they traveled up to the third floor of the hospital. The tall blond man remained as silent as a stone for the entire trip. 

A myriad of questions played through his head - _Why didn't she tell me? When was she planning to tell me? Was she thinking of getting rid of the baby all along? _He felt as though he were dreaming. This all felt so unreal. 

The doctor gestured to the inside of a room, then stepped aside as Adam entered. 

His eyes were instantly drawn to the limp form of the redhead lying in the hospital bed. She looked tiny, her head propped up on the pillows, face turned in the opposite direction, facing away from Adam. As he neared her, he noticed there were tears on her cheeks. The expression on her face nearly broke his heart. 

"Ames..." He sat down on the chair by the other side of the bed, gazing up into her face with concern. 

A fresh tear trickled down Amy's right cheek, and she shifted her eyes to the man she loved. She despised herself as she took in the sorrowful expression on Adam's face. She'd let him down, and that was nobody's fault but her own. 

"Adam..." The diva's voice was barely above a whisper. "...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..." 

The blond man reached over the rail of the bed to grasp Amy's hand gently but firmly in his own. "Honey...why didn't you _tell _me?" 

The redhead gazed at him with a crestfallen expression, her eyes looking so lost and helpless. She looked much younger than her twenty-seven years as she stared at him plaintively. 

"I really didn't _know_," she admitted, hating herself for this, even though it was the truth. "I haven't been...regular in the last few years." 

"I know, baby, but...if you even suspected for a split second that you might have been pregnant, you should have told me." He rose from the chair to stand directly over her bed, his head cocked to one side as he gazed at her with a gentle expression on his face. 

Amy remained silent for a beat as she met his emerald-green eyes. She suddenly felt his other hand in her hair, caressing it. The love in his eyes was clearly shining within them, and she felt something inside her break. 

"I...didn't do a very good job," she berated herself. 

"Oh, Ames...sweetheart, this is not your fault..." 

"I know," the redhead whispered. "But I still can't help feeling like a failure." 

Adam winced and lowered his head to hers. Nuzzling her gently, he whispered, "Don't ever think that...you are _not _a failure." He lifted his head to gaze directly into her sad hazel eyes. 

Amy kept her gaze on him for a long moment before lowering them to her abdomen, which was covered by a thick white sheet. She moved their clasped hands to her stomach, closing her eyes tightly as she did so. More tears escaped her eyes. "I know I only just found out about the baby...but I can't help feeling regretful..." She didn't conclude her sentence, as she was unable to, choked with heavy emotion. 

"I know, sweetie," the blond said softly. "I feel the same way..." 

* 

A bit later, while Amy was being prepped for emergency surgery, Adam stepped outside of the hospital to make a couple of phone calls. He pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his light jacket and pushed some buttons, then waited for an answer on the other end. 

"Hello?" came a sleepy female voice. 

"Stephanie? I'm sorry to bother you so late, but this is urgent..." 

"Adam? Hi...what's the matter?" she said. The General Manager of SmackDown knew that if the man was calling her at this ungodly hour, it had to be something serious. 

"I...I'm not going to be able to go to SmackDown this week," he said, bracing himself for the woman's reaction. 

"What happened, Adam?" 

"It's...it's Amy..." He took a deep breath before continuing. "...she's in the hospital..." 

"Oh, my God! Why? Is she going to be okay?" the brunette asked frantically. 

"Yes, she _will _be...but she needs..." He paused as his voice threatened to break. "...Stephanie, she needs an abortion." Before the woman could say anything in response, he said, "We just found out tonight that she's pregnant...but it's ectopic." 

"Oh, God...oh, Adam...I am so sorry to hear that," Stephanie said sympathetically. "How is Amy taking all of this?" 

"Not well," he admitted, running his free hand through his hair. 

"I'm really sorry...please give her my sympathies...and don't worry about missing SmackDown. You just take care of Amy - your place is with her right now." 

"Thank you, Stephanie..." After another moment, they hung up, and Adam made a couple of other calls. 

Finally, he made the call he'd been most dreading. He knew the person wasn't the most receptive or friendly soul around. The man on the other end answered after several rings, and he didn't sound happy. "Hello?" 

"Mr. Bischoff?" 

"Yeah...who the hell is this?!" It was after two in the morning, and he wondered with irritation who in hell would be calling him now - and disturbing him from his sleep. 

"Sorry to disturb you...it's Adam Copeland - Edge," he said. 

"If you want to be on RAW, I suggest you give me a call at a reasonable hour. I'm not going to have my sleep disrupted just because some flash in the pan from SmackDown wants to be on _my_ show." 

The tall blond man took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. He was already feeling stressed out beyond belief, but this man was so nasty and obnoxious. He ran a hand through his long blond hair as he tried to calm himself. He closed his eyes as he finally spoke again. 

"I'm not calling for that...I'm calling about Amy, my fiancee." 

"Amy?" Bischoff questioned. "You mean Lita?" Not a thing did he mention about Adam's usage of the word "fiancee." 

"Yes...she isn't going to be able to make it to RAW," Adam said. "In fact, she's going to need some time off." 

"What? You tell her that if she doesn't come to the show tomorrow night, her ass is going to be fired!" the man boomed, yelling so loud that the Canadian had to hold the phone away from his ear, lest he get deafened. 

"Mr. Bischoff," he said, again trying to keep calm, "that's not going to happen. She won't be physically able-" 

"If that woman is not at the arena in Indianapolis tomorrow night, she's gone - period." Before Adam could say another word, he suddenly realized the man had hung up. 

"God damn bastard!" he shouted. Then, in all of his fury, he tossed his cell phone to the ground. Without thinking, he used the heel of his shoe to stomp it. Once it was smashed to smithereens, he kicked it as hard as he could, where it came to land in the middle of the small hospital parking lot. 

He sank down to the pavement, where he was unable to stop the tears from coming. He felt as though his world were collapsing around him. His sobs were silent as he thought about the baby he and Amy would never get to hold. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Part 6**

**Back**   
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

  


* * *

Adam sat wearily at Amy's bedside, his eyes glued to her sleeping form. She had come out of surgery a few hours before, and the doctor had briefly spoken to Adam afterward. She'd explained that Amy was going to be fine and that there hadn't been any signs of an infection or tumors - which meant they hadn't had to cut any portion of the fallopian tube - and that there shouldn't be any complications in conceiving and having a normal pregnancy in the future. Adam had sighed in relief at this news, and he had questioned the physician about why the ectopic pregnancy may have occurred. 

_"Has Amy been pregnant before, any time in the past?" Dr. Perl had queried._

_"Not that I know of," the Canadian calmly replied. "Why?"_

_"Well, usually in cases such as hers, the woman has been pregnant once before and suffered a miscarriage," the woman explained. "Based on the fact that Amy's periods have been irregular in the last four or so years - from what she's told me - I believe she may have been previously pregnant and not even known it - and then had a spontaneous abortion - a miscarriage that occurs within the first couple of weeks."_

_"Oh," was all the lanky blond had managed. He felt too numb to say anything more._

He rose from his chair at Amy's bedside instantly as the redhead suddenly roused, crying out softly. Adam winced, knowing she had to be in pain. 

"Ames...? Baby?" He leaned over the rail on the bed, instantly slipping his hand into hers as he gazed down into her face with tender concern. 

"I...ow, that hurts," she said softly. She gazed up into his eyes. "Adam..." 

"I'm here, honey," the tall blond man said as he gazed her over. He raised her hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. God, he loved this woman. 

"Is everything...what did the doctor say?" 

"You're going to be okay, Ames," he replied. He managed a soft smile. 

"Am I..." Her voice trailed off, her hazel eyes filling with tears as she started over. "I want to have your baby someday...will I be _able _to?" 

"Yes, baby," the Canadian replied softly, the emotion swelling inside him nearly overwhelming. "The doctor said there's no reason you can't have a normal conception and pregnancy in the future." 

"Oh, thank God," the redhead whispered. She'd been terrified that the surgery was going to leave her permanently scarred, and therefore sterile. And she wanted in the worst way to have Adam's child someday. 

The blond continued to gaze tenderly at her, his emerald eyes glittering with all the love he had for her. He lowered his head to hers, placing a gentle kiss on her brow, then nuzzled her, his eyes closed. 

"I love you," he whispered. 

"I love you, too." 

When he pulled back, their hands still clasped, he placed a hand gently against her cheek. "I...have to take a trip for a little while," he said. He hated having to do this, as he didn't want to leave her even for a moment, but he had no choice. 

"What?" Amy asked. She was still a tiny bit disoriented from the anesthesia and medication she'd been pumped full of. "Where? And why?" 

The tall man ran his hand through his long blond hair. "It's business, Amy...I have to go to Indianapolis for awhile...but I'll be back before you know it - by sometime tonight. I _promise_." 

"Indianapolis?" the diva questioned. She quickly wracked her brain until it suddenly dawned on her. "RAW - you're going to RAW?" 

"Yes," he admitted. He didn't want to have to tell her about the cruel things Eric Bischoff had said to him on the phone the previous night. He didn't want to upset her any more than she'd already felt. 

The redhead remained silent for a beat as she gazed straight ahead. Then, shifting her eyes back to his, she asked, "It's about Bischoff, isn't it? He wants me to show up tonight and didn't like it when you said I wouldn't be able to make it..." 

Adam blinked, surprised she was so perceptive. "How did you know that?" 

"Just a hunch...Adam..." Her voice suddenly took on a beseeching quality, "...please don't do anything rash." 

"I won't...but I have to talk to him face-to-face. It'll be all right, Ames." He gently squeezed her hand as if to reassure her. 

The diva sighed as she thought about their entire ordeal. Strange how it had begun on the night of her birthday - and that she had gotten so violently ill and had had a horrible reaction to, of all things, a ski mask someone had given her. It just didn't add up. 

"I wish...I wish Trish and the Hardys could be here with me," she said sadly. Besides Adam, Trish Stratus and Matt and Jeff Hardy were Amy's closest friends. It would make her feel somewhat better to have them around her during this trying time. 

Adam gazed down into her face softly. He decided right then that he was going to see what he could do about getting one, two, or perhaps all three of them back here with him. 

* 

_The young woman cowered in the corner in which she sat huddled on the cold hard cellar floor. She bitterly wondered how long she'd been in this prison hell. It felt like ages that she'd been here - held captive by that sick son of a bitch.___

_The man suddenly appeared in the doorway, as if he'd heard her thoughts. Instinctively, she moved backward until she was up against the wall. She kept her head bowed as he approached her, refusing to look up into his face, her long brown hair falling in two wings across her face. She could hide behind her hair - hide her eyes and not have to look at the smug bastard.___

_"I've brought you some dinner..." John bent over and laid a plate with a chicken leg, mashed potatoes and string beans on the floor before her. While he did so, the woman hung her head even lower. How could the asshole even expect her to be hungry after everything he had subjected her to?___

_The man lowered a glass of water, placing it beside the plate. If she hadn't felt so sick because of her situation, she would have found the food appetizing. Then, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and took out a napkin and fork, also laying that down on the floor. He would never let her have a knife - the bastard was smarter than that, smarter than he looked.___

_The woman remained huddled in the corner, her legs tucked underneath her, arms crossed protectively across her chest. She was still only wearing her bra and panties, as that was all the psycho would _allow_ her to wear. She had no idea what he had done with her clothes, or her coat.___

_He stood there as if fixed, his strange eyes trained on her intensely. "Angelica...Angelica, look at me..."___

_The woman refused to look up. In the middle of this horrible ordeal, she had very quickly grown to hate that name. It wasn't her _real _name, anyway. But this asshole thought it was.___

_John came closer to her, kneeling down directly in front of her. The young woman attempted to move over, to her left, but he stopped her. He roughly grabbed hold of her chin, holding her head up and forcing her to look at him. She practically snarled as she did so, having grown to hate his stinking guts more quickly than she could ever loathe anyone. She felt as though she could spit on the man.___

_"You have _got _to eat, Angelica..."___

_The woman tried to turn her head away from him, shutting her eyes tightly and refusing to look at him. He wasn't much to look at, anyway.___

_"Don't you _dare _close your eyes - don't you _dare _look away from me!" He raised his other hand to her, clenching it into a fist. She opened her eyes just in time to see it.___

_"What the hell is the matter with you?!" John shouted. She was sick of all of this - tired of his madness, tired of being held prisoner in this hellhole, and just plain tired. Since she'd been here, she'd never really slept - how could she? She had lapsed in and out of consciousness at times when the asshole had struck her. It seemed he hit her whenever the mood struck him. She was surprised that it hadn't happened again now.___

_"You are going to eat!" the man yelled. Then, before she could even react, he picked the broiled drumstick up from the plate and shoved it toward her lips. She tried to keep her mouth tightly shut, her teeth clamped down, but somehow, he managed to get it open. The maniac shoved the piece of chicken into her mouth, moving it in and out as he shouted orders at her, his other hand roughly gripping the back of her head.___

_My God...he was truly a madman. He was forcing her to pantomime fellatio on the damn chicken leg. Oh, God...what the hell was he going to do next?___

_She wished she hadn't asked herself that question, as a moment later, he forced her hand to his crotch. She let out a horrified whimper as she realized he had a hard on. He threw her down on the cold concrete, instantly falling to his knees, pinning her in place.___

_"No!!!" She screamed and thrashed around beneath him, more terrified than she'd been up until now. Before this, the worst he had done as far as violating her body was touching her breasts. Oh, my God...___

_She kicked at him as he suddenly shifted, yanking her panties down. She had to _stop_ him! She couldn't let him do the sick thing he was thinking of doing.___

_The maniac somehow, during all of her struggling, had managed to get his pants undone, and now they were down just enough... "No!!!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, raising her small fists to batter him in the chest as he pulled down his underwear.___

_Her tears finally came as he suddenly plowed into her, thrusting hard. She sobbed as the pain tore through her, shutting her eyes tightly, refusing to look at him. She thought she was going to be sick.___

_"Angelica...oh, Angelica..."_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Part 7**

**Back**   
  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

  


* * *

Adam ran a hand through his long blond hair, unable to stifle a yawn as he got out of his rental car. He had just arrived at the arena in Indianapolis, where RAW was to be held later that night. 

He felt as tired as he looked. Over the last thirty-six or so hours, he had slept very fitfully, on and off. He was lucky if he'd gotten two solid hours at a time. 

It was late afternoon as he stepped into a back entrance of the arena. So intent on getting to Eric Bischoff's office, he didn't even notice the man that was standing in the hallway nearby. 

"Young Adam...whatever brings you here to RAW?" 

The tall man turned his head in the direction of the heavily-tinted British accent to see William Regal. The man was standing beside a table upon which was a coffee machine, cups, sugar and other paraphernalia. 

"Hey, Regal," Adam said. "Actually, I'm here to speak to Eric Bischoff...would you happen to know where he is?" 

"Certainly..." The man took a gulp of his coffee, then pointed down the hall as he told the Canadian which door he needed to go through in order to see RAW's General Manager. 

After thanking Regal, Adam set off down the hall to go directly to that room. 

The door to Bischoff's office was closed as he came to it. Adam paused for a moment as he heard the man's annoyed voice shouting at someone. He wondered who the unfortunate victim of the GM's wrath was until he heard a female voice speaking softly - Stacy Keibler. 

Adam took a deep breath, deciding he would at least interrupt and thus postpone the tall blonde diva's further tongue-lashing. He rapped hard on the door with his knuckles. 

"Come in!" the man's angry voice barked. 

The Canadian, surprised that Bischoff hadn't first asked who was at the door, turned the knob and stepped inside. The boss' back was to him, as the man was standing. Stacy's brown eyes widened slightly as she saw him. He knew what she was thinking - she was wondering what on earth he was doing there. Everyone knew how loyal he was to Stephanie and SmackDown. Besides, from what he'd heard about Eric Bischoff from Amy and his friends who were on RAW, the former WCW president was no picnic to work for. 

The General Manager turned to see who had so surprised the tall diva, and when he saw Adam, he looked surprised. 

"Edge...what are you doing here? Taking my advice after all?" 

Before Adam could reply, he went on. "So, you've decided to come to RAW..." The man wasn't asking, he was making a statement - an arrogant assumption, at that. His face looked as smug as his voice sounded. 

"No, Mr. Bischoff...that's _not _why I'm here." 

"Oh," the GM replied, and the tall blond man didn't miss the note of disappointment in that single word. "Very well...Stacy, excuse us..." 

The tall blonde woman nodded at him obediently, almost as though she were afraid of Bischoff. She managed a tiny smile at Adam, mouthing the word "hi" as she stepped past him and departed the room. 

"Now, what can I do for you?" Bischoff asked the moment Stacy was gone. He crossed his arms, his face looking displeased as he faced the blond man. 

"I came here about Amy..." 

"Is that so? Well, she had _better _be here with you tonight, or _else_..." Bischoff gestured with a pointing finger as he spoke before crossing his arms again as he leaned against his oak desk. 

Adam ran a hand through his hair as he tried to control his rising temper. He'd promised Amy he wouldn't do anything drastic, and he didn't want to do anything to threaten her job. 

"She's not," he said, looking the man straight in the eye. 

"What?! I told you I was going to fire that woman if-" 

"She's in the hospital," Adam blurted calmly, cutting Bischoff off. He was getting fed up with the man. 

"In the _hospital_? Why?? She seemed fine the other day. Oh, wait...is she getting plastic surgery? Tell her she doesn't _need _any God damned plastic-" 

"No!" the blond man shouted. "If you would just let me-" 

"Then what the _hell _is that woman's big problem?!" Bischoff yelled. "Or is this a bunch of bullshit you're handing me bec-" 

The man's words were cut off as Adam, enranged well past his limit, suddenly lunged, grabbing him by his shirt collar. He lifted the shorter man up a bit to glare directly into his shocked eyes. 

"Look, you pathetic little prick..." he spat, green eyes wide. "...Amy is in the hospital, and not only is she not here, she will not be able to appear on your damn show for awhile...you see, if you'd let me explain over the phone last night, I would've told you _then_ - and you wouldn't be looking scared enough to piss your pants right now..." 

Bischoff swallowed hard as he stared into the taller man's eyes. As he listened to his words, he was painfully aware of the fact that he was literally shaking in Adam's grasp. 

"...the reason she's in the hospital," the Canadian continued, his voice nearly a snarl, "is because she was carrying my baby with an ectopic pregnancy - and she's just had emergency surgery to get rid of it..." With that, Adam let go of the sniveling General Manager, his fingers releasing Bischoff's collar as though it were a flame burning his flesh. The man sickened him as his facial expression went from fear to shock and perhaps even regret. 

"Oh, God..." Bischoff murmured. "...I'm so...God, I'm sorry...I had no idea." 

"Of course you didn't," Adam muttered. _That's because you never gave me a chance to explain, you prick!_ He still felt furious, but at the same time, his other emotions - the sorrow and grief he felt over the loss of his and Amy's child - swelled up inside of him. 

"Okay," Bischoff said as he unconsciously straightened his collar, "Amy can take off as much time as she needs to recuperate...I'm sorry about...the baby." 

The tall blond Canadian's expression was stern as he eyed the man and nodded. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of Bischoff's office. 

* 

_The pain... The pain that wracked her body was horrendous. The young woman wept, unable to contain the harsh sobs that ripped through her._

_She hung her head, partly in shame and partially to mentally curse herself. Not for the first time, she wondered why she hadn't walked back with one of the guys to the hotel at which they were staying on Queens Boulevard. She couldn't believe where she was now, and all because of her own stupidity. She _always _had to be so determined to prove to the guys that she was strong and could take care of herself - that she could hold her own. It was because of that attitude that she was imprisoned in this fucking cold basement and had just been raped by a God damn lunatic who thought her "stage" name was her real one._

_Part of her wanted to die - to just slit her wrist or throat or whatever and end her life the way her innocence had ended. She hadn't been a virgin, but her innocence to violence and violation of the worst kind had been stripped away - in a most brutal fashion._

_The other part of her wanted desperately to survive - to somehow escape this Godforsaken place and get the ultimate revenge on the sick bastard - see to it that he was found out and _found, _and ended up rotting the rest of his pathetic existence in prison._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Part 8**

**Back**   
  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

* * *

Adam wearily walked down the hallway of the arena, hoping to run into one of his friends. He didn't feel much in the mood to explain his appearance to just anyone. 

Fortunately, a couple of minutes later, he got his wish, as he spotted Jeff Hardy and Trish Stratus stepping out of a room together. He immediately rushed over in the their direction. 

"Jeff! Trish!" The Canadian waved his arms frantically as the pair suddenly looked his way. 

"Adam!" the petite blonde diva exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" 

"Hey, man," Jeff said. "I was just going to ring Amy's cell...I've been looking for her, but no one's seen her...is she here with you?" 

Adam raked his hand through his long blond locks. "No..." He cast his eyes down momentarily at the cell phone strapped to his belt hook. "...actually, _I've_ got her phone..." After he'd destroyed his own cell phone virtually beyond recognition the previous night, he'd briefly returned to the hotel to retrieve Amy's in case he needed it during his trip. 

Jeff and Trish exchanged worried glances before turning back to their friend. 

"Adam," the rainbow-haired man said, "what's going on?" 

"I'll explain," the Canadian promised. "Let's first go somewhere private..." 

"Oh, my God..." Trish breathed, placing one hand over her mouth, her pretty face consumed by horror. Jeff's face had gone pale as a ghost, his expression grave. 

Adam had just finished telling his friends about Amy, and it seemed the news hit them as hard as it had himself. 

"Oh, Adam..." the blonde diva said softly, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. She placed one graceful hand on his arm. "...I am _so _sorry...what an awful thing to happen..." She shook her head sadly. 

Jeff, who had remained eerily quiet all this time, ran a hand through his shaggy, colorful hair. "My God..." he finally said, "...I just...can't believe it." He winced for his best friend in the hospital and his good friend who sat before him and Trish. 

"Anyway," Adam said morosely, his eyes momentarily downcast. "Amy mentioned wishing that you guys and Matt could be there with her." 

"Oh, I'll be there!" Trish stated emphatically. "As a matter of fact, I'll change back into my street clothes and pack - and I'll be ready in fifteen minutes." She rose from her seat, and Adam did the same. The petite blonde was about to leave the room to return to the women's locker room but suddenly thought the better of it. Facing the tall blond man, she opened her arms. "Come here, Adam..." 

The lanky Canadian went to his friend and allowed her to hug him, hugging her back. Then, Trish said, "I'll see you in a little bit..." 

Jeff looked up into his friend's green eyes, his face still stricken. "I'll come, too - without a doubt. God, Amy is my best friend - and you are one of my closest friends...I...I can't believe-" The young man let his voice trail off. 

"I'll go alert Matt..." Jeff stood up, giving Adam a squeeze on the shoulder, then left the room. 

Adam stood there for a moment or two, trying to collect himself. Everything seemed to surreal. He almost felt as though he were witnessing someone else's life and experiences, as though watching a movie. It was hard to believe all of this was really happening to _him _and to the woman he loved. 

As he left the room and began walking aimlessly down the arena hallway, he almost didn't hear the voice calling his name. He finally turned around to see Chris Jericho several feet behind him. 

"Hey, man...what are you doing here?" The shorter blond's face wore a smile - which quickly disappeared when he noticed the dire expression on his friend's face. "What's wrong?" 

Adam raked a hand through his long hair, then glanced around as he noted the hall was now empty except for them. 

"It's Amy," he replied in a soft voice. "She's in the hospital and had to have emergency surgery." 

"_What_?!" Jericho's tone was incredulous, his expression matching. "What hap-" 

"It was...an ectopic pregnancy," the tall Canadian explained hurriedly. 

Chris' eyebrows quirked up, but they resumed their normal position and he looked completely saddened. 

"Oh, man...I'm so sorry. How is she?" 

"Shaken up," he replied. 

Jericho shook his head and was silent for a moment. Then, as he looked back up to meet his friend's eyes, he said, "I want to go see her...do you mind if I ride back there with you?" 

Adam shook his head. "No, but Trish and Jeff, and probably Matt, are coming, too." 

Both men looked up as another person suddenly ran toward them. It was Jay, and his face was full of concern. 

"Adam, I just heard..." he spoke. "Jeff was explaining to Matt, and..." He raked a hand through his long blond locks. "I'm sorry, man..." His face went ashen as he thought about the child that would have been like a niece or nephew to him - as Adam had always been like a brother to him. 

"You're coming back with me, too, Jay," the tallest man said. He was not asking, he was _telling_. "That'll make six of us in the car - we'll have Trish sit up from between me and whoever..." 

"Or Trish will sit on someone's lap..." The three men looked up to see the small diva heading toward them, a suitcase dangling from her left hand. "...or I'll ride in the trunk - whatever," she said. "Anything to visit my best friend when she needs me most." 

Jericho glanced at Jay, swatting him in the chest with the back of his hand. "Come on, we'd better get ready." The two men headed down the hallway. 

Jeff, accompanied by his older brother, suddenly reappeared down the hall. They caught up to Adam and Trish, their faces morose. 

"Sorry about-" Matt's voice trailed off, and sadly rolling his eyes heavenward, he put his arms around the tall blond. 

"Yeah..." Adam murmured as they separated. 

"Hey, we're going to have to tell Eric we're leaving," Trish suddenly spoke, eyeing each of the Hardys in turn. "And something tells me he's not going to be all that happy about it..."   
  
**Part 9**

**Back**   
  
  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

* * *

Eric Bischoff flipped through some papers on his desk as he thought about the news Adam Copeland had given him. He wondered how the Women's division was going to suffer without Lita - undoubtedly the best and most credible diva on the roster. In fact, the redhead had originally been scheduled in a match against Molly Holly, the current Women's champion, for the night. He decided he was going to give that honor to Trish Stratus. 

A sudden knocking on the door startled him from his thoughts. 

"Come in!" 

Bischoff was surprised when not one, not two, but _five_ wrestlers entered his office - Chris Jericho, the Hardys, Christian and Trish. They were all dressed in their street clothes, which he found odd considering they were all scheduled for matches that evening. 

"What's _this _all about?" the GM asked as he stood up. 

The members of the group looked at one another, and finally, the petite blonde diva stepped forward to be their spokesperson. 

Clearing her throat, Trish spoke. "Mr. Bischoff, we have to leave immediately...We-" 

"_What_?!" Bischoff shouted, a rage boiling up inside of him for the third time that night. "You all have matches tonight!" 

"_I_ don't," the blonde said calmly. 

"Oh, yes you do, my dear! I was going to give you the news a little later, but you're taking over Lita's position as challenger for the Women's title!" 

"I can't do that, Mr. Bischoff..." 

"So, you five think you can all just waltz on out of here whenever you feel like it...and _why_?" 

Jeff took a step forward and spoke up. "Our friend is in the hospital, and we have to go visit her..." 

"Oh, this is all about Amy Dumas, is it? Well, you _cannot _visit her tonight - we have a show to put on, people!" 

Jericho stepped up to the desk, an angry expression dominating his features. "Look, _Uncle Eric_...we don't give a damn about the show right now. Some things are more important than the _show_. We're going to see our friend, and that's all there is to it!" 

Bischoff glared at the man, not missing his mention of the nickname he'd been known by back in WCW. By now, his ears were burning with the anger he felt toward these five individuals. 

"Who do you all think you are? _I _am running this show, and _you _work for _me_! And I expect-" 

Jericho reached out across the desk and grabbed the General Manager by his shirt collar. 

"Sorry to break it to you, you motherfucker - but contrary to what you believe, you are _not _the center of the universe. Now, we're leaving...and if you don't like it, _Uncle Eric_, you can just kiss my ass!" He let the man go, giving him an extra shove for good measure. 

The GM glared at them in disbelief, his eyes wide. It was the second time in less than an hour that a wrestler had manhandled him, and by the look on her face, the little blonde diva appeared angry enough to attack him next. Straightening up his collar, he stared sternly at each of them in turn. "Fine - go..." 

Trish Stratus was the first to turn around and head for the door, Jeff Hardy right at her heels. Bischoff couldn't believe what was happening, and he was furious. 

"If you all leave tonight before you've appeared on the show, you can forget about coming back!" 

Chris Jericho, the last of the five to leave the room, turned back to glare at him. "You really don't _get _it, do you, _Uncle Eric_?" He shook his head, a disgusted sneer on his face as he regarded the other man. "What a pity..." He turned away and exited the room, slamming the door as he went. 

_The young woman instantly jerked her head up as she heard the footsteps coming down the wooden steps to the basement. She wished she had some kind of weapon with which to defend herself in case the asshole tried to violate her again._

_"Angelica..." His voice was soft and lilting, and that terrified her far worse than if it had been harsh and booming. He was so unpredictable, and she never knew what he was going to do next - when he was going to suddenly snap and strike out in violence._

_"...sweet Angelica..." John said in an almost singsong tone of voice. "Did you sleep well last night? Hmm?" He came to a stop directly in front of her, and she shivered, only parly from the cold as she stared up at him with hatred in her eyes. She wouldn't even blink if he dropped dead right in front of her._

_The man suddenly knelt down in front of her, and she instinctively turned her head away in a refusal to look at him any longer._

_"Now, now...be a good girl."_

_Her eyes shut tightly as she suddenly felt one of his filthy hands on her chin. He turned her face toward him, ordering her in a gentle voice to open her eyes. When she didn't obey, he yelled._

_The woman reluctantly snapped her eyes open, letting them glaze over as they went unfocused. He smiled, nodded and said, "Very good..."_

_She tried desperately not to shed the tears she suddenly felt wellling up in her eyes. After he had raped her, she'd refused to allow him to see her cry again. It seemed that her tears only excited him even more._

_The madman suddenly moved his face close to hers, and her eyes suddenly focused, widening as he got nearer still. She felt she would be sick if this asshole tried to kiss her! She wanted in the worst possible way to turn her head, claw at his eyes - _whatever - _but she was terrified of what he might do. Instead, she closed her eyes again, keeping her lips tightly shut. She had to bite her tongue to keep from whimpering as she felt the man's slimy lips on her - but, amazingly, he didn't kiss her on the lips, opting for her cheek instead._

_She was shaking when he suddenly let her go. Refusing to open her eyes, she heard him walking around, then detected the sound of some objects being laid on the floor - her breakfast. She could smell eggs and bacon._

_And then, she heard the distinct sound of his footsteps trodding up the wooden stairs, and the basement door being closed and locked. Only then did she dare to open her eyes again._

Amy's eyes snapped open as the remnants of the strange dream wore off. She shuddered as she thought about that poor young woman. Who was she? How long had she been trapped in that hellhole by that psychopath John? She shivered as she recalled the man's name. Such a common, harmless name... Yet so terrifying. 

She gazed around at her surroundings, initially disoriented, running her right hand gently over her face. And then she remembered - she was in the hospital... The baby... 

For a moment, she wondered where Adam was, not comprehending why the tall blond was nowhere around. And then she remembered that he had gone to Indianapolis, where she should have been for RAW that evening. He had said he had to speak to Eric Bischoff - face-to-face. 

She pulled the white blanket up to her chin, a strong feeling of loneliness and a weaker one of fear coming over her. The dreams she'd been having lately had some sort of ominous meaning - she _knew _this. 

Closing her eyes against the harsh white light of the hospital room, Amy prayed that Adam would return to her very soon... 

**Part 10**

**Back**


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

Amy's eyes fluttered open, and she instantly saw Adam sitting directly at her bedside. The blond man stood up from his seat to come even closer to her, and she blinked - when she opened her eyes again, he was still there. She had the strongest feeling that he wasn't really there - that he was just a mirage, or a lingering figment left over from her dream. 

"Adam?" Her voice sounded feeble, even to her. 

"I'm here, baby..." He reached out and grabbed her hand, and only _then _did she realize that he was really there. 

"When...did you get back?" she rasped, and she began to cough, as her throat felt parched. 

The Canadian reached over for a glass of water on the tray situated away from her bed, then held it to her lips so she could drink. She took small sips rather than large ones so she could allow the water to moisten her entire mouth, and she savored the cool, refreshing liquid. 

"I just got back about an hour ago," Adam replied in a soft, gentle voice. "I did what I had to do, and then I rushed right back to you..." He placed one hand gently on her cheek as his eyes met hers. "...and I brought back some friends with me." 

The redhead perked a bit, sitting up a little more. "Trish...?" she managed in a hopeful voice. 

"Yeah, she's one of them...she's here." 

"Where is she?" 

"Out in the waiting room...you want me to bring her in?" 

"Yes, please..." Amy felt a little better than she had a few hours earlier. She'd been wanting so badly to speak to her blonde friend, almost desperate for another woman's company. She felt that although Trish herself had never been pregnant and had never experienced what _she _had gone through, the little blonde would understand and empathize in a way no man ever could. 

"Hold on...I'll be right back," the tall blond promised. He felt Amy's hazel eyes watching him as he stepped out of her room. He made his way down the hall to the small waiting room on that floor, and he saw his and Amy's five friends congregated in the small area... 

Chris was drinking what was probably his fifth cup of coffee from a styrofoam cup, pacing back and forth a little, oddly enough like an expectant father. Matt and Jeff were huddled in a conversation, the two brothers sitting a little bit away from the others. And Jay was sitting beside Trish, who had a magazine open on her lap. The diva obviously had no interest in reading it, as her eyes were currently on his best friend as Jay spoke in soft tones with her. None of them had yet seen him. Adam stepped closer, clearing his throat. 

Jericho was the first person to notice him. The shorter blond man came right over to him, all concern and none of his usual wisecracking good-humor surrounding him. 

"How is she?" 

"She's...better," he replied. "She's asking for _you_..." The tall Canadian shifted his gaze to Trish, who immediately met his eyes. 

"Well, that's good," she said, closing the magazine and placing it on the empty chair to her right. "I've been waiting to see her for over an hour...we _all _have." As she stood up, Adam turned around and went over to the nurse's station situated on the other side. 

Trish eyed him for a beat, then turned to face each of the four men she'd arrived with. Every one of them looked as worried as she felt. 

"Okay," Adam said as he turned toward her. "Visiting hours don't end until ten." That would give them all under an hour to see the redhead. 

As the two Canadians turned to go, Jeff Hardy's voice stopped them. 

"Hey, what about us?" 

Adam turned back to his blue-haired friend. "I'll bring you guys in two at a time," he promised. "I just...sensed something when Amy asked for Trish...I think she just needs a woman to talk to one-on-one right now..." 

"Oh..." The younger Hardy brother nodded as if in understanding. 

"Come on," the tall man said, grabbing the petite blonde diva by the arm, nearly running as he steered her to the redhead's room. 

Adam let Trish enter before him, and the blonde woman first tentatively poked her head in, as if to be certain her friend was really awake. 

Amy instantly saw her. "Trish!" She reached one arm out, beckoning to the other woman, and the petite Canadian needed no further encouragement. 

"Hey, you..." She walked directly up to the bed and was alarmed when Amy suddenly burst into tears. 

"Oh, honey...don't cry." Trish bit her lip as soon as the words escaped her. Given everything she'd been through, the redhead _deserved _a good cry. 

Amy shook her head, putting her arms out as best she could. The blonde leaned over and hugged her. In truth, the hospitalized diva was crying half from her ordeal and half of it was actually tears of joy at seeing the other woman. Trish was the best friend she had who didn't produce testosterone. She was friendly with a few of the other divas, particularly Nora Greenwald - Molly - and Stacy Keibler, but she considered neither as close as she esteemed Trish Stratus. 

In the meantime, Adam, sensing his fiancee wanted to be alone with the other woman, stayed out in the hall. He ran his hand through his long hair as he began to pace the area a little. 

"I can't believe what happened, Amy..." Trish said sadly. "You didn't...even _know_ you were pregnant, did you?" She reached out and brushed some strands of her friend's auburn locks off her face. 

"No, I didn't," the redhead said in a soft, sad voice. "I mean, lately I was occasionally experiencing some cramps - like menstrual cramps, but I never..." 

"Oh, Amy..." Trish hugged her again, not knowing what else to say or do. After all, there was nothing she could think of that would ease her friend's anguish. The entire situation broke her heart, but she knew that all she, as well as the four men in the waiting room, could do was _be_ there for Amy and Adam. 

"Trish, do you ever...have weird dreams where you..." She hesitated as she chose her next words carefully. "...see through a stranger's eyes?" 

The small blonde blinked in confusion at the oddness of the question. "What do you mean?" 

Amy gripped the other woman's hand tightly in her own. "Exactly that - I've been having the most disturbing dreams the last couple of days...and in them, I see everything through the eyes of a stranger." 

"Well, no...I've never really had dreams like that," Trish admitted. "But you said they're disturbing...what happens in them?" 

"This girl..." Amy began slowly. "...she gets kidnapped by some lunatic...and then she's held captive in his basement, and..." She shuddered as she gripped the petite blonde's hand tightly enough to cause her a bit of pain. "...and he tortures her. He-he..._rapes _her..." 

Trish stared at the redhead with horror, a cold knot of fear forming in her belly. She didn't speak it aloud, but she wondered how or _why _Amy would have such horrid dreams. With such detailed subject matter, they would have to mean something. More aptly, there would have to be some logical, albeit _horrifying _reason she was having them. 

The blonde woman suddenly felt clammy all over as she considered the unthinkable possibilities. 

Adam looked up at the sound of heels clacking on the hospital's tile floor several minutes later and saw that Trish had stepped out of Amy's room. The little blonde looked anxious as she made her way over to him in a hurry. She gave him a nervous half-smile as they walked back to the waiting room in silence. 

The tall blond knew the diva wanted to talk to him, as she continued to stand beside him rather than sit. He motioned for Chris and Jay so they could have their turn visiting with the redhead, and he gave them the room number. Only when they were gone did Trish speak. 

"Adam...can I talk to you privately?" 

He looked down into the young woman's eyes, noting that the anxiety within her chocolate-brown depths seemed to have increased. He nodded, and they walked down the opposite end of the hallway after giving the Hardys a nod. 

"What's up, Trish?" 

The blonde glanced around for a second before turning back to him. 

"Has Amy ever mentioned anything to you about any strange dreams she's had?" 

The question initially threw the tall Canadian man off. He blinked, running a hand through his long hair as he thought about it. He didn't have to think long. 

"Well, sure...she's been having some kind of recurring nightmare for the last little while..." 

Trish studied him intently. "Did she cue you in as to the subject matter of them?" 

"Yeah - she said some girl was being attacked by some guy," he said, wondering where the diva was going with all of this. "Why? What are you thinking here, Trish?" 

"Oh, God..." The petite blonde's face had drained of all its color. She raised her eyes to meet his, not knowing exactly how to answer his question. What she was thinking was really just speculation, but she honestly thought it made sense. 

"Trish?" Adam's voice sounded impatient, and his facial expression transformed to one of great concern. 

"Adam, I don't know quite how to tell you this, but..." She bit her lip, then plodded on. "...Well, Amy just told me all about those dreams, and I...I have my suspicions that they're not dreams at all. My gut is telling me they're _flashbacks_..." 

"What?!" He stared at her incredulously. "You _must _be kidding!" 

"I'm...I'm not," Trish said, wincing at the look on the blond man's face. "I think all the things Amy's been describing from her dreams have really happened - to _her..._I think, sometime in her past, she was kidnapped and..._raped_." 

**Part 11**

**Back**


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

"You're going to be great, kid," Chris said with a small slightly unsure smile as he regarded Amy. "Better than ever..." He was holding her hand as he leaned over her hospital bed. He couldn't help thinking how stupid the words that had just left his lips sounded, as it wasn't like the diva had just had something like _knee _surgery. For crying out loud, she'd just had surgery to abort her unborn baby because of a damned ectopic pregnancy... 

"Yeah," Jay concurred from his tag team partner's side. "I can't wait for you to take me down with the hurricanrana again..." 

The redhead managed a tiny smile for the two men, then bit her lip before she spoke. "I'm so glad you guys came...but how did you manage to _all _get out of RAW tonight?" 

"Oh, we all decided we were coming to visit you, damn everything else," Jericho simply stated. 

"And Bischoff _let _you go?" 

"Well, not exactly," Jay said. "Let's just say that the five of us won't exactly be welcomed back on RAW with open arms..." 

"Oh, no!" the diva cried with a frown of concern. "You guys all got _fired _for coming to see me? I don't want to be the cause of something like that..." 

"Amy, it was _our _choice...Uncle Eric is a prick - he's _always _been one. Believe me, I knew that back in WCW," Chris said with a frown of his own. His features resumed their calm position as he continued. "The only thing that mattered to any of us was _you_..." The blond man gave her hand a gentle squeeze. 

Amy felt touched, and as she smiled, she felt tears forming in her eyes. 

"I...I can't believe you guys..." she said softly. "...you went through all that trouble just for _me_..." She felt so fortunate to have friends like them. They were so precious, each one of them. And she loved them all. 

"Aw, hey, you're worth it, Ames..." Jay said. "Besides, I know Stephanie would be _glad _to take five superstars off of Bischoff's hands." He grinned. 

"Make that _six_," she said. 

"You mean _you..._?" 

The redhead nodded. "I can't go back there after all this - not after he fired all of you...and besides, I want to be with Adam. I _need _him by my side, and he'll never join RAW..." She didn't mention that her disturbing dreams were actually a primary reason for this decision... 

"You're _crazy_, Trish!" Adam cried as he eyed the blonde diva with disbelief. "How can you think such a thing?" 

The petite blonde started to speak a reply, but the tall man cut her off. "Don't you think I would _know _if something like that ever happened to her??" 

"I don't...well, not _necessarily_..." Trish said. 

"Look," Adam said impatiently, "Amy and I are engaged to be married. I think _I_, of all people, would _know _if something like that ever happened to her. Forget what you _think_, Trish - because it never _happened_!" He glared at her for another second or two, then turned and continued on his way down the hall, back to the waiting room. 

The blonde woman flinched at her friend's reaction but immediately recovered as she stared after him. She shook her head as she slowly made her way back to her friend's room, peering in at the redhead with the two blond men, who seemed to be doing a great job of lifting her spirits. 

Trish bit her lip, knowing that Adam's reaction to what she'd said was only natural. She should have expected it. But damn it, she sadly knew she was _right _about this - she'd stake her life on it. 

Adam sat down near the Hardys, sighing audibly as he ran his hand through his long hair. He immediately stood back up as he found it impossible to relax in his agitated state. 

"You okay, man?" Matt asked. He and Jeff both eyed their friend with concern, knowing he'd been through an awful lot. The tall Canadian looked nearly ready to crack. 

"Yeah..." He paced around a little as he thought furiously about the crazy conversation he'd just had with Trish. It was insane. The blonde had to be completely out of her mind to even suggest... 

Turning back to the Hardys, Adam sank back down into the chair beside Jeff. 

"I just heard the most ridiculous bullshit story from Trish..." 

Both brothers studied him with a mixture of surprise and confusion. 

"What do you mean?" Jeff asked. 

Adam shook his head in annoyance, wondering why in hell's name he was even bothering to mention this. He kept his voice soft as he spoke. "Well, Amy's been having these weird dreams lately - _nightmares_. She just told Trish about them..." 

"Okay..." Matt said with a nod, waiting for the blond to continue. 

The Canadian man reduced his tone to a whisper. "...Trish seems to think they _mean _something - and she thinks they mean that Amy was raped..." 

Neither Matt nor Jeff uttered a word upon hearing this, but they quickly exchanged glances. 

Adam didn't see the exchange, but noticed the way both Hardys' eyes had widened. They looked about as shocked as _he'd _felt when Trish had handed him that bullshit theory. 

"Isn't that insane?" the tall blond asked. "I don't know where she came up with such crap..." 

Before either man could issue a response, Matt looked up to notice that Jay and Chris had returned. _Saved by the bell_, he thought. He nudged his younger brother. "Come on...looks like our turn is finally here..." He rose from his chair. 

Jeff stood up as well. "We'll be back soon," he promised. 

Adam got to his feet as if to go with the brothers, but Matt told him they were fine and that they remembered Amy's room number after hearing him say it twice. 

As the Hardys made their way down the corridor, Matt glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one from their party happened to be following them or in earshot. 

"Oh, man..." Jeff muttered. "This is so not good..." 

"I know...damn it. Amy's having flashbacks," the older man said. "Trish is real perceptive..." 

The rainbow-haired young man nodded sadly. "And obviously, Amy doesn't remember what happened to her..." 

**Part 12**

**Back**


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

Amy was cleared to leave the hospital after another two days. Dr. Perl had stated that everything appeared to be normal and that the redhead's healing progress was going well. 

The one thing the doctor had mentioned that put Adam's guard up was counseling. Recollections of what Trish Stratus had said popped into his mind, which made him angry. However, Dr. Perl had explained. 

_"Women in your fiancee's predicament usually need therapy to overcome the grief they often feel over the loss of the baby."_

The tall blond man had nodded in understanding. But it had seemed that Amy was dealing with this very well. Certainly, having her closest friends around her helped. 

As far as Trish went, Adam had barely spoken two words to the little blonde since she'd told him about her suspicions regarding the redhead's strange dreams. She and the four men were staying in a hotel a few blocks from the hospital. Adam didn't see her all that much since he was at the hotel very little, as he was frequently at Amy's bedside. 

He watched over the woman he loved as she slept, keeping the chair directly at her bedside. He leaned over to caress her hair, her brow furrowing in her sleep as she evidently experienced more dreams. 

For the most part, Amy remained calm as she slept - for a few minutes while she dreamt. After awhile, she began to move around restlessly in the bed, soft murmurs escaping her. 

Adam gazed down at her with concern as her movements increased, her nocturnal utterances turning into moans. Before too long, she began thrashing around in the hospital bed so much, the blond man was afraid she might inadvertently pull the tube out of her arm. 

He stood over her bed, placing a restraining yet gentle hand on his fiancee in what he considered a feeble attempt to calm her. 

"Ames! It's all right, baby!" The Canadian pressed a hand to her cheek, then slapped it gently, trying to rouse her. It didn't work. 

The redhead's eyes actually snapped open for a few seconds, and Adam was certain she wasn't even seeing him as she stared up into his face. If anything, she seemed to be looking right through him, at some unseen horror beyond. 

"Wake up, baby...it's me - it's Adam..." he crooned as he looked down into her face with concern. 

Instead of awakening, the young woman seemed to calm down for a beat, then resumed her almost violent thrashing, adding screams to the movements. 

"Oh, God..." 

A nurse suddenly ran into the room. "What's going on in here?" 

Adam briefly glanced over his shoulder at the woman. "I...I think she's having a nightmare." 

The nurse came forward to the bed, laying a hand on Amy's now deathly pale face. "Honey, you have to wake up." 

The tall blond man looked at the nurse frantically. "What happens if she _doesn't _wake up from this dream?" 

"Then we give her some valium to calm her down...This can't be any ordinary dream she's having." The nurse grabbed firm hold of Amy's right hand, shaking it a bit. "Talk to her..." she instructed Adam. He did as she said. 

After another moment or so, the redhead's hazel eyes opened, widened in terror, and she glanced around, her breathing still hard and fast. The first person she saw was the nurse, but when her eyes fell on the tall Canadian blond man, she seemed to measurably calm down. 

"A-Adam...?" Her voice sounded small and weak, uncertain like a lost child's. 

"It's me, sweetie...it's me...I'm here." He grasped her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

The diva burst into tears, her sobs harsh and wracking her entire body. 

The blond gathered her form against him as best he could, hugging her tightly, kissing her forehead, pushing aside some strands of damp, sweaty auburn off her brow. 

As the redhead continued to cling to him, burrowing her face into Adam's chest, the nurse spoke. 

"Does she always experience such traumatic dreams?" 

"Lately, yes...over the last week or so..." He couldn't help but recall what Trish had speculated - but that couldn't be the case. It just seemed too _impossible._

"Maybe you should talk to the doctor about them...I do remember a nurse from the early evening shift mentioning a woman patient having bad dreams," the woman said. 

Adam swallowed hard, his mouth having gone dry as he still held fast to the distraught redhead. "Are you saying that nurse said it was Amy?" 

"Yes...she never mentioned the patient's name or room number, but she said it was a young woman with red hair who came in and had an ectopic pregnancy." 

The tall blond man eyed the nurse with horror. _Oh, God_... He cursed himself for not having been there with her at such a time. 

Another horrible thought occurred to him - what if maybe, just _maybe _- Trish was _right _about why Amy was having these nightmares? 

As the nurse stepped out of the room, Amy continued to cling desperately to Adam. 

"It was horrible!" she cried. She pressed her face even more tightly against his chest as she sobbed. 

The blond man stroked a hand over her long hair, whispering calmly to her. "Shh...it's okay, Ames...you're safe, sweetie...you're safe..." 

She pulled away to stare up into his emerald eyes, and Adam's heart nearly broke at the anguish he saw in her face. 

"He...he...attacked her again..." she said, her voice reducing to a near-whisper. "He left b-b-b-bruises on her! He was about to r-rape her again..." 

The Canadian stared into her eyes with horror for a beat before pulling her against him again. 

"It's over, honey...shh...it was only a dream..." he spoke. 

Despite his words, a horrible, twisting, sinking feeling gripped Adam. It churned his stomach, and Trish's words echoed hollowly in his mind. 

_"I think all the things Amy's been describing from her dream have really happened - to _her_...I think, sometime in her past, she was kidnapped and..._raped... 

**Part 13**

**Back**


	13. Chapter 13

* * *

Adam gave Amy a small smile as he listened to her go over the assortment of conversations she'd had with their friends. Something she said triggered a recent memory in him. 

"Oh, that reminds me...I have to make a call to Stephanie McMahon...I think she'll be happy to know she's getting six of the best wrestlers in the company for SmackDown." He pulled Amy's cell phone from his jacket pocket with the intention of going outside the hospital to make the call. 

"How come you're using my cell phone?" the redhead asked. "Because I don't think I have Stephanie's number on it..." 

"I...don't have my phone anymore," Adam replied reluctantly. 

"What do you mean? Did you lose it?" 

"Well, not exactly, Ames...I...let's just say it broke." 

Amy didn't like the sound of that, and instinctively, she knew what must have happened. "How did _that _happen?" she asked almost fearfully. 

"Well, when my foot stomped on it..." 

"Oh, Adam..._why _did you do that?" 

The tall Canadian sighed, running a hand through his long blond hair as he spoke. "Well, I got a little pissed when I called Eric Bischoff the other night..." he said. "I swear, that man is a prick if there ever was one. He wouldn't allow me to explain why you wouldn't be at RAW - I just snapped - _that's _why I took it out on my cell phone. And _that's _why I had to go to Indianapolis last night." 

"Oh..." The redheaded diva looked thoughtful for a moment as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Then, looking up and meeting his eyes, she said, "Well...just promise me you won't destroy _my _phone as well...?" 

Adam couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Okay, babe...I promise." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, telling her he'd be right back before slipping out to take the elevator downstairs and stepping just outside the building to make the call to Stephanie. 

The phone on the other end was answered after three rings. 

"Stephanie McMahon speaking..." 

"Hi, Stephanie - it's Adam." 

"Oh, hi...How is everything? How's Amy?" the young woman inquired. 

"She's doing okay," he replied, although he couldn't rid his mind of the fears that now plagued it... The things Trish had guessed had happened to his lovely financee once upon a time. 

"Good...I hope she really _is _doing okay," Stephanie said. "And how are _you _holding up, Adam?" 

"All right, I guess." Then, before the SmackDown GM could comment on that, he plummeted on, getting to the main point of the call. "Stephanie, I have to ask you something. It's very important." 

"What is it?" 

"Well, I had to go to RAW last night to speak to Eric Bischoff _personally. _You see, the man didn't allow me to explain why Amy wouldn't be there when I called two nights ago." 

On the other end, Stephanie sighed. "Why does that not surprise me? Let me guess - he made some threats against her job and then he hung up on you?" 

"Yeah, that's pretty much what happened...How did you know?" 

"Just a hunch," the brunette replied. 

"Oh. Well, anyway," the Canadian continued, "I brought some wrestlers back here to the hospital with me when I came back...they wanted to see Amy." He took a deep breath before going on. "From what they all tell us, Bischoff basically fired them. He didn't want them to leave RAW last night, even if it _was _to visit a friend in the hospital...anyway, Steph...they would like to come work for SmackDown." 

"I see...and who are these wrestlers?" 

"Trish Stratus, Jay Reso, Chris Jericho and both Hardys." 

At her end, Stephanie could barely contain the grin that came to her face. "Wow...Bischoff is really _that _willing to part with those five? They're all highly talented," she said. "And I would _love _for all of them to be a part of SmackDown. If Eric doesn't want them, they're perfectly welcome on our show." 

"Great," Adam said. "Oh, and Stephanie...there's one more, actually - Amy wants to move to SmackDown as well." 

"I suspected as much," the brunette said. "What did Bischoff have to say about her?" 

Adam raked his free hand through his hair. "Well, when I saw him yesterday, he changed his tune about firing her for not showing up - I guess he _is _at least _part _human after all - of course, this was after I told him what happened. She'll be one to negotiate over," he explained. "She wasn't let go like the others apparently were." 

"Okay," Stephanie said. "That's no problem...I'll call him as soon as possible. As much as I hate dealing with that man, I'd love to get Amy on SmackDown." 

"Great...Thank you, Stephanie." 

"Actually, thank _you_, Adam. See you soon." 

"All right..." 

They ended the call after exchaning goodbyes, and the tall blond made his way back into the hospital and to his fiancee. 

As the Canadian returned to Amy's hospital room, he caught sight of Dr. Perl leaving. Briefly, he wondered if he should approach the woman to ask her about the disturbing nightmares the redhead had been having. But then, as the physician walked down the hall without noticing him, he changed his mind. 

_Besides_, he told himself, _Trish is probably wrong. Just because she was pre-med and _almost _went to medical school doesn't mean she knows _everything... He decided to push this issue as far to the back of his mind as possible. 

**Part 14**

**Back**


	14. Chapter 14

* * *

Matt and Jeff Hardy and Trish Stratus entered the new rental car the brothers had gotten, securing their seatbelts after slamming and locking the doors. The elder Hardy was in the driver's seat, the blonde diva in the passenger's seat and Jeff in the back. Chris Jericho and Jay Reso would be riding with Adam and Amy to their destination of Atlanta, Georgia. 

Matt ran a hand through his long dark brown hair, letting out a sigh. He really would have preferred his brother sitting beside him, but they had wanted to be chivalrous to their female companion. It wasn't that he didn't _want _Trish sitting beside him, or that he didn't like her - on the contrary, he was very fond of the little blonde. However, after the events at the hospital, in which he and Jeff had discovered what was happening to Amy, he would have liked to be able to maybe share a few whispered words about the situation with his sibling. 

The trio drove in relative silence for a few miles, the road noises and the music from the radio the only sounds for a long while. Then, from the back, Jeff finally did the honors of being the first to broach the subject of their redheaded friend. 

"God, poor Amy..." 

"Yeah," Trish agreed with a wince. "Poor Adam, too. It's so horrible...I can't even _begin _to imagine what anguish they're going through right now - to lose their baby like that..." She couldn't fathom such tragedy. The blonde was also thinking about her fellow diva friend's _other _plight, but she wasn't about to blurt that out - not even to Matt and Jeff, who were such great friends of Amy's. 

"Adam looks like he's in shock," Jeff observed. "But I can't say I _blame _him...I mean, man!" 

"They'll be all right," Matt stated optimistically. "_Both _of them. It'll take time, of course, but they're both such strong people." 

"I just hope Amy's nightmares stop..." 

Matt turned his head sharply, briefly looking away from the road to stare at Trish. From the back, though belted in his seat securely by his lapbelt, Jeff leaned forward as best he could and stared at her as well. 

The darker Hardy brother's face and voice were both serious as he asked her the question. "You _know _about her nightmares?" 

Trish bit her lip, then stared at Matt almost as if in shock. She hadn't meant to let it slip... "Yeah," she admitted in a small voice. "When I went in to visit with her, she...she _told _me." 

There was a brief moment of silence as the Hardys contemplated what all this meant. Then, Jeff tapped the petite blonde on the shoulder. 

"Oh, God...what does that...I mean, Trish...do you _know_?" 

"Jeff!" His older brother's voice was loud as he glared at him through the rearview mirror, shooting him a murderous look. 

Trish's heart nearly stopped at the rainbow-haired young man's question - because, at that very moment, she knew for sure that her suspicions had proven to be correct. Taking a deep breath, exhaling it and trying her best not to break into tears, the Canadian began to tell the two brothers about what she'd suspected... 

_The young woman slowly opened her eyes as she awoke, a pounding sensation in her head. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the overhead fluorescent light, initially disoriented but suddenly remembered..._

_She felt tears coming to her eyes as she took in her surroundings. She was still in this Godforsaken basement, wherever this place was. She'd dreamt that she was outside, roaming around through a field alone, happy and warm - feeling safe._

Oh, shit... _It had all just been a dream - she didn't have her freedom, and she _wouldn't _anytime soon, as far as she could tell. She'd been held prisoner here for days already. What was the sicko planning on doing with her? Keeping her here _forever 

_Harsh, brittle sobs escaped her, and she raised a hand to her mouth in a feeble attempt to drown out the cries escaping her. If her heard her, surely he'd come down here and torment her again..._

_Getting to her feet, the woman suddenly made up her mind. Somehow, someway, she was going to get out of here. She was going to get away, go back to where she belonged - go back _home_ and report this psychopath. Who knew how many other women before her had had to endure this kind of horror? And how many others _after _her would suffer the same fate?_

_She wiped at the tears on her cheeks as she stared up at the small window behind her. It was up quite high, but she thought it might be the key to her escape. The asshole had a footstool down here - she knew because she'd seen it. She wasn't a petite girl - she was five-feet, seven inches tall - so she figured she would be able to reach the window if she could only get to the footstool._

_Her captor kept the small window covered so that nobody could see within his basement. There was a long curtain with a pattern of dark gray covering it. If she could get to the window - part the drapes, see outside... She might be able to call for help. She was certain people passed by that window. If she couldn't fit through it, perhaps she could open or break it and call out to someone for help..._

_She suddenly jumped about three feet in the air as she heard the cellar door creaking on its unoiled hinges as the bastard made his way down the stairs. The thumping of his footsteps terrified her even more, and she hurriedly sat down on the floor, turned away from the window. If he saw her staring at it... If he suspected for a second that she might be getting any ideas..._

_"Good morning, my sweet Angelica."_

_The young woman hung her head, daring to raise her eyes a bit so as to quickly glare at him. He made her sick to her stomach._

_John stepped further into the room, her breakfast plate in his right hand, a cup of hot coffee in a mug in his left. He squatted down before her as he placed both on the floor, then reached into his pocket for a fork, laying that on the plate. He stared at her wordlessly for a moment._

_"Angelica, I brought you some pancakes this morning...I know they're your favorite breakfast," he said, his voice in a pleasant tone._

_She refused to look up at him as she quietly reached for the fork._

_"How about a thank you for going through so much trouble to get you these delicious pancakes?"_

Fuck you, _asshole!" she shouted at the top of her lungs as she quickly brought back the fork and stabbed at him. She let out a growl as the utensil got him in the upper arm, and the man fell back, surprise registering on his face. He swiftly recovered, however, and he grabbed at her wrist to prevent any further damage._

_"You little _bitch_!" As his hand closed on her wrist, causing her to drop the fork, she had the cup of coffee in her other hand, and before he could react, she tossed it into his face. He let out a bellow as the scalding hot liquid burned his flesh, his eyes._

_The woman got up, taking advantage of the bastard's pain and distraction, and sprang across the room to the small nearby bathroom. She chanced a glance over her shoulder just before reaching it, seeing the maniac a few feet behind her, stumbling, and realized she was going to make it._

_She slammed and locked the door behind her, backing up and pressing herself against the wall beside the toilet as she listened to the sounds on the other side of the door. The psycho was shouting obscenities, and she could hear he was nearing. Then, her eyes went wide with fright, her heart pounding uncontrollably in her chest, breathing heavy, as he pounded on the door._

_"If you don't come out of there, I'm breaking the door down, you ungrateful little _slut_! And then, I'm going to make you feel sorry you were ever born..."_

_Her chest heaved with all the effort it took for her to breathe. _Oh, God... _What was she going to do? She instinctively knew the bastard wasn't going to give up easily. If he didn't manage to break the door down, what if he had a key? She imagined he might have one._

_She turned her head, looking over her shoulder at the tiny window behind her. She'd never considered the window in this room... It was close enough to the toilet that she would be able to reach it._

_The young woman put down the commode's lid, then climbed atop and reached over for the window's equally small shade. Her heart pounded some more, this time with nearly giddy anticipation that she might now be seconds away from her escape... But as her hand moved the shade, her heart sank, and she let out a small gasp of disappointment._

_"No!" she cried, her eyes taking in the small bars on the window. Oh, God... What was she going to do _now_? She felt hot tears coming as she lowered herself from the would-be way out, coming to sit on the closed toilet lid with her knees drawn up to her chest. She sobbed bitterly, her throat feeling raw as she began to cry even harder, louder._

_She began to draw within herself, actually successful enough at it that she no longer heard the asshole pounding on the door from the other side. Nothing seemed to matter at the moment - the only thing she cared about was hiding herself in her soft, dark, safe place..._

_There, _nothing_ could hurt or scare her._

**Part 15**

**Back**


	15. Chapter 15

* * *

As Adam sat behind the wheel of his rental car, driving, Amy began to stir beside him. In his peripheral vision, he noticed the way she began shifting around a bit in the passenger's seat. 

Jay and Chris sat in the back, and Jericho was talking, his voice soft so as to not disturb the obviously exhausted diva. 

Then, all of a sudden, the redhead began to whimper in her evidently restless sleep. 

"Is she waking up already?" Jay asked from behind Adam. 

The tall Canadian briefly took his eyes off the road to glance at his fiancee. "I don't...No, she's still asleep," he said. An uncomfortable tightness gripped the pit of his stomach as he realized it was happening again, and so soon after the last one. Dear God, what was happening to her? 

His best friend met his eyes in the rearview mirror. 

"Adam? Are you okay, man?" Jay noticed that the other man had gone deathly white. 

Before the tall blond could reply, the redhead began to thrash wildly in the seat beside him, her hair whipping around her head. Screams began to erupt from her lips, the sounds nearly deafening to the three blond men in the confines of the car. 

"Oh, God - she's having another nightmare..." Adam said with a sinking heart as he was so startled he nearly lost control of the car. He quickly straightened out the wheel, and the driver of the vehicle in the next lane blew his horn loudly, angrily shouting obscenities out his window. 

"Chris, you're sitting right behind her - calm her down, will you?" Adam knew there was nothing he could do at the very moment. His hands were tied, unless he could make it over to the right lane and pull over to the side of the road - which seemed impossible at the moment, given the traffic. Also, quite a lot of the other drivers out here seemed maniacal, reckless. He wouldn't be surprised if other driver sped up and refused to let him into the other lane, even though he would use his signal. 

Chris did as Adam suggested, releasing his seatbelt and sitting as forward as he could. "Amy!" He placed a gentle yet restraining hand on her shoulder, dismayed to discover that she was shaking. 

Her screams increased in volume as he touched her. 

"Christ..." Jay mumbled beside Jericho. Still eyeing the poor redhead, he asked, "Adam, has she been like this for awhile? Having such bad dreams, I mean?" 

"For the last week or so," the blond man responded as he rose one hand to rake his fingers through his hair. _Damn it... _He felt so fucking helpless - useless. He wished he could do something to make all of Amy's nightmares - and whatever fears and horror went along with them - go away for good. 

"Amy, it's on, you have to wake up, sweetheart," Jericho was speaking softly. Somehow, he had managed to grab hold of one of her hands, and he rubbed it gently, as though warming it. 

The redhead's eyes snapped open, and Adam glanced at her with concerned, dismayed to see she had actually been perpiring. That must have been some horrible dream she'd just had. 

"Adam!" 

"I'm here, honey," he spoke soothingly, reaching out to pat her thigh. 

The diva's hazel eyes were wide with fright, and she definitely looked disoriented, as though she had no idea where she was, or who was holding onto her hand. She jerked her hand free upon the realization that her fiance was not the one holding it, then turned around frantically. She calmed down a bit as she met the kind crystal-blue eyes of her friend Chris Jericho. 

"Ch-Chris?" 

"None other, kid...and Jay is here next to me," the blond said. "It's okay. It was only a rotten, stinking dream." 

"Yeah," the other man said from beside him as he leaned over to give her a soft, friendly squeeze on the shoulder. "The three of us would never let anthing happen to you. And if anyone's gonna try, they have to get through _us _first." 

Amy seemed to let out a sigh of relief, calming down immeasurably as she listened to them. Their presence, and especially that of the man beside her, was soothing. 

"Oh, my God!" Trish exclaimed as the car directly ahead of them suddenly swerved, very nearly getting side-swiped by an SUV in the left lane. "What's happening?" 

Jeff squinted from behind her as he stared at the rental car their friends were in, that they were following. 

"I'm not sure...wait - it looks like Amy is...oh, God," he said. "She's hysterical." 

"She must be having another dream," Matt observed, his voice strangely calm despite the fear he was feeling for his friend. 

As they tried to watch as best they could, within minutes, the redhead seemed to calm down as Jericho tended to her. 

"I feel so terrible for her," Trish said sadly. 

Matt shook his head. "I know...it's hard to believe-" He allowed his words to trail off, not wanting to finish his thought. 

"So, Trish," Jeff spoke from behind her, his tone soft, "you told Adam what you thought was going on and he got mad at you?" 

"Yeah," the blonde replied. "He...wouldn't believe me. He refused to see it. But his reaction was normal." She cast her brown eyes down, biting her lip. 

"I hate to say this," Matt said, "but Amy needs therapy. She has to be able to remember - and to accept it. Only _then _will she be able to go on." 

Trish felt tears coming and sniffled a little. She wondered why the darker Hardy brother had not gone into psychology. He sounded so very wise. "I agree..." she finally managed. Her voice was slightly choked as she spoke, and Jeff gave her shoulder a tender squeeze. 

**Part 16**

**Back**


	16. Chapter 16

* * *

After arriving at the hotel and dropping their luggage off at their respective rooms, the Hardys and Trish, Chris and Jay made calls to rental car companies. They had decided to travel the way they had done on the way here, except that the two blond men would share their own vehicle and leave Adam and Amy to their own car. 

The couple had gone on ahead to the arena, as the SmackDown roster was all already there. The others would meet up with them later, when they received their rentals. 

Adam had one arm protectively around the redhead's waist as they searched for Stephanie McMahon's office. As they made their way down the hall, he noticed Paul Heyman with his "client," Brock Lesnar. The two men were conversing, and evidently, Heyman was prepping The Next Big Thing for his upcoming match. 

As they were nearing the two men, Paul suddenly called out to the diva. 

"Amy - hello there...How are you?" 

The redhead turned her head in his direction, actually stopping to regard her former ECW boss. The tall blond man at her side stopped along with her. 

"Hey, Paul...I'm...okay," she said, managing a weak smile. 

"I hope you are," the man said as he looked her over. He briefly glanced at Adam before shifting his gaze back over to Amy. "Word around here is that you've suffered a miscarriage..." 

Adam arched an eyebrow as he eyed Heyman suspiciously. Although that was _not _what had happened, it was still in the vein of what _had _occurred, and it made him none too happy that rumors and gossip were spreading about his fiancee's and his situation. On top of that, he didn't like Paul Heyman and never had. Instinctively, he found the man a sleazebucket - and he didn't trust him. Heyman definitely possessed a sly, slimy and sneaky quality. 

"Sorry to hear that," Paul was saying. 

The redhead turned to the Canadian by her side, looking up into his face silently. Adam was actually relieved when she didn't say anything to correct Heyman in his mention of a miscarriage. 

"Thank you, Paul." She glanced at Lesnar, giving him a small smile as he was looking at her questioningly, an actual look of sympathy on the big man's face. 

The tall blond started to lead Amy away when Heyman's voice spoke again. 

"So, you're coming to SmackDown?" 

The couple stopped in their tracks, and Adam turned to glare at the man over his shoulder. Although Heyman had said nothing wrong nor menacing in any way, he still didn't like him asking the redhead questions - not even one as innocent as that. 

"I'm _hoping _to," Amy replied as she turned back to meet Paul's eyes. "We'll see..." 

"Yes, she _is _moving to SmackDown," the tall blond Canadian man said firmly, confidently, putting an end to this. He turned back to the diva, gesturing that they should walk on. 

Heyman and Brock watched as Adam and Amy continued on their way down the hall. 

As Lesnar turned toward his agent, he couldn't help wondering about the odd expression on the other man's face. If someone had asked, he wouldn't know how to describe that look. 

Stephanie McMahon looked up at the knock on her office door. She put the pen she was holding down on the small stack of papers on her desk. 

"Come in!" 

When the brunette saw Adam and the popular redheaded diva in the doorway, she stood up and instantly made her way to them. 

"Hi!" She faced the other woman. "Amy, Adam called me the other night, as I'm sure you know, and told me what happened..." The brunette grabbed hold of the redhead's hand as she gazed sympathetically into her eyes. "I am _so _sorry. How...how are you doing?" 

"I'm...feeling a bit better - thanks." 

"If you need anything...anything at all, just let me know." Stephanie glanced up at the blond man as well. "_Both _of you..." She winced as she thought about what these two had gone through, the heartache they'd experienced. She couldn't imagine the pain they were feeling at the loss of their unborn baby. When Adam had called her with the news the previous night, she'd been near tears over the tragedy after she'd hung up. 

The blond man held fast to his fiancee, his arm going around her waist protectively. 

"What's the verdict on Amy being moved to SmackDown?" he asked. "Have you spoken with Bischoff yet?" 

"Yes, I have, as a matter of fact," the young woman answered. 

"And?" 

Amy gazed up into the face of the man she loved, taking note of the intensity in his green eyes as he anticipated Stephanie's response. 

"And...Everything's arranged," the General Manager stated. "Eric Bischoff doesn't understand the value of female wrestlers, so he was perfectly willing to part with Amy as well as Trish Stratus. I even made him a trade deal, although I didn't have to go that far - he's getting the Big Show." 

"Great..." the blond man said. "I was afraid I was going to have to go pay Mr. Bischoff another visit and _make_ him change his mind if he wasn't willing to part with Amy." 

The redhead bit her lip, relieved that it didn't have to come to that. She knew Adam would have done what he'd just said, too. 

After awhile, Stephanie said, "You've got yourself a match against Kurt Angle tonight. You," she said as she shifted her gaze to Amy, "are welcome to go out there to ringside with him if you want." 

Amy gave her a surprised look. 

"It's up to you - I'm not going to put you in any storylines for now if you're not ready for that. But if you want to accompany your man to the ring, feel free to do so." 

The redhead exchanged glances with Adam, who offered her a gentle smile and a wink of encouragement. 

"Okay. Thanks, Stephanie," she said gratefully. 

The brunette smiled at both of them, and, that done, the couple departed the GM's office to go to Adam's locker room. 

They didn't notice Paul Heyman standing in a corridor nearby, a smirk on his ugly face as he kept his eyes on the redhead. 

**Part 17**

**Back**


	17. Chapter 17

* * *

Amy sat silently in the locker room with Adam and ran her hand through her long red hair as she watched him change into his ring attire. He'd chosen to wear white tights with black decorations and his in-ring name, Edge, in the same color. After donning his black boots, Adam snatched up his trademark black trenchcoat. 

The redhead had decided that, since her accompanying him to the ring was so impromptu at this time, that she would go wearing what she already had on - a pair of faded blue hip-hugger stretch jeans and a black baby tee. 

"Are you sure you don't want to stay back here?" the tall blond man asked as he sat down beside her on the couch upon which she was sitting. "You would have plenty of company once the others arrive..." 

Amy shook her head. "No, Adam...it's fine. I'd rather be out there with you." 

"Okay...and since you're not in the script just yet, we won't have to worry about Kurt trying anything on you," he said, thinking about the Olympian attacking her with the Angle Slam or possibly even the Ankle Lock. 

"Kurt's a good guy," the redhead said. "Besides, if Paul thinks I just had a miscarriage, the entire locker room probably thinks that - Kurt included." She cast her gaze down at the floor. In truth, she felt like hell - before leaving the hospital, she'd had a prescription filled for some type of painkiller, as Dr. Perl had explained that she would feel some pain for a week or so after the procedure she'd had done. She was also exhausted, although one wouldn't necessarily notice this, as she hid it pretty well. And finally, the anguish she felt over the loss of the baby - _their _baby - had not left her. She still couldn't believe she hadn't even suspected she'd been pregnant. It was odd. 

Adam took hold of her right hand, rubbing it gently with both of his as he gazed lovingly into her hazel eyes. "When I'm through for the night here, we'll go back to the hotel, and I'm gonna take good care of you, okay, baby?" 

The redhead managed the tiniest of smiles as she gazed into his handsome face. She knew how fortunate she was to have a man like him. She reached up with her free hand to caress the blond man's cheek. 

The tall Canadian leaned in to place his lips on hers, and he was a bit surprised that Amy didn't pull back after a few seconds. Instead, she slid her warm, moist tongue into his mouth, causing him to moan softly with desire. They hadn't kissed this long or passionately for the last few days, since Amy had landed in the hospital. 

Afterward, they gazed into one another's eyes, and Adam raised their clasped hands, placing a tender kiss on the back of hers. 

Somehow, he'd managed to put to the back of his mind all the suspicions Trish had raised. However, he couldn't help the newer nagging sensation that was just to the side at the moment... 

Trish Stratus pulled her wheeled suitcase behind her as she, Matt and Jeff entered the arena. They had just arrived moments earlier, and the little blonde was anxious to meet with SmackDown General Manager Stephanie McMahon to find out about her future here. 

"I'm glad we're gonna be on SmackDown," Jeff was saying. "More of our friends are here - especially now." 

"Yeah," Matt agreed. "And I'm real glad Amy's gonna be here now, too...Though I'd be surprised if Bischoff let her go so willingly." 

"Why would you say _that_, Matt?" Trish questioned. "He doesn't give a damn about us divas - how many bra and panties matches has he put us in? The pig!" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. 

"She's right," the younger Hardy brother said. "And Amy and Trish are _way _better than that - _all _the divas are." 

"Of course they are...Hey - I wanna go see Shane and Shannon. Why don't we go find them?" 

"Okay." 

While the Hardys decided to go off in search of their two friends, Trish was intent on speaking with Stephanie first and foremost. She continued on her way down the hall, but she hadn't gotten too much further when a voice caused her to stop. 

"Well, hello...Look who's here..." 

Trish heard the voice from behind her, and it made her skin crawl... Paul Heyman. She turned around to come face-to-face with the man, whose fat countenance wore a smug expression, complete with an ugly grin. 

The blonde woman didn't like Heyman at all. She found him to be a creepy, slimy, not to mention _sneaky _individual, and she didn't trust him. Of course, the fact that he'd hit on her more than once - back when they'd both been on the RAW roster - after she'd told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't the _least _bit interested contributed to this feeling. 

"Buzz off, Heyman..." 

"Why so hostile, Trish?" the man asked in an innocent tone. "I just wanted to welcome you to the SmackDown roster, even if it isn't official just yet," Paul said with a smirk. "Sorry to hear about your friend Amy and her little mishap..." 

The petite blonde narrowed her eyes as she glared at the piggish man with loathing and disgust. She wanted _so _badly to slap him and tell him to fuck himself. Instead, she said, "'Little mishap'? You jerk! She had an ectopic pregnancy!" 

"Oh, is _that _what happened? Word around here is that she suffered a miscarriage." 

"Yeah? Well, either way, it's hardly a 'little mishap.'" 

Heyman continued to smile at the Canadian diva. "You know, Trish...I might be interested in getting a new client. Brock Lesnar is a great find, but it would be a lot more _satisfying _working with _you_." 

"Whatever..." the blonde muttered, her utmost displeasure crystal-clear on her face as she glared at the man. "I have a better idea - why don't you just take a cold shower? Or better yet - just take a _shower_." With that, she turned around, continuing at a brisk pace down the hallway. 

Paul Heyman's booming laughter followed after her, sending an unpleasant chill up Trish's spine. 

**Part 18**

**Back**


	18. Chapter 18

* * *

The match between Edge and Kurt Angle had gone smoothly, although the Olympic Gold Medalist had won. 

As the three of them made their way back to the locker rooms together, Angle expressed surprise at Amy's appearance at ringside. 

"I know most people are probably keeping their mouths shut about this," he said, "but guys - I want you to know how sorry I am...and I hope you're feeling better," Kurt said, gazing meaningfully at the redhead, his blue eyes full of compassion. 

Amy nodded, not quite knowing what to say, but she was touched that Angle had shown he cared. 

The tall blond man placed a hand on Angle's shoulder. "Thanks, Kurt..." 

"If you guys ever need a friend to talk to, you know where you can find me," the man said as they approached his locker room. 

Both the Canadian and the diva nodded, and, somehow, Amy managed a tiny smile for the man. He returned the gesture before quietly slipping into the locker room. 

Amy looked up to exchange glances with Adam, noting the sadness in his green eyes. She winced, glancing down, and felt the blond man's arm go around her waist before they resumed their walk down the hall to return to their own locker room. 

"I'll get showered, and after I get dressed, we'll get out of here, okay?" the Canadian was saying as he opened the door. He stood back to allow her to enter first, then continued. "I don't think Stephanie would-" 

He cut his sentence short abruptly as Amy suddenly let out an ear-piercing scream. 

"My God, Ames! What-" He turned his head sharply to glance in the direction of where she was staring with eyes widened in stark terror, one of her arms outstretched, hand out as though warding off a vicious specter of some sort. 

"Oh, God...oh, God..." The redhead was actually shaking as her gaze remained fixed on the objects positioned on the small table in the room. 

Adam marched into the room and approached the table. He stared, puzzled, at what had evidently freaked the woman out so horribly - and when he turned back to look at Amy, a sickening, cold knot of fear clenched his stomach. She had sunk to the floor, her back against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest. She was slightly huddled forward, arms wrapped around herself, hugging herself protectively. 

The blond man rushed to his fiancee's side, coming to sit on the floor beside her. 

"Amy, Amy...are you okay? Talk to me, baby..." He pulled her into his arms as he positioned himself on his knees before her. He rocked her back and forth, and although the redhead clung onto him, she was now strangely silent, as though catatonic. 

Adam pulled back at the startling realization that, not only was she still shaking, but she felt deathly cold to the touch all of a sudden. A quick glance into her face told him that she had also begun to cry, and the tears were streaming down her face. 

"Hey, is everything okay in there?" 

The blond man looked up to his left as he realized people were just outside the door. Although he wanted to simply ignore them, he instead decided to acknowledge them, as they'd obviously heard Amy screaming and were concerned. 

He hated to move away from the frightened redhead for even a second, but he had to move a bit to answer the door. He opened it without even getting up from his knees. 

"What happened? Is everything okay?" a concerned voice asked, and Adam was surprised to see Brock Lesnar in the doorway. Directly behind him stood Kurt Angle, who looked equally worried. "What are you-" 

Before the man could finish his question, he stepped a little further into the room, catching sight of the distraught woman huddled on the floor, and his eyes widened as he glanced over his shoulder at the Olympic Gold Medalist behind him. 

"Oh, my God...Is she going to be all right?" Angle asked as he stepped a bit closer to the doorway when Brock moved. 

"I don't...Yeah, she'll be fine," the blond man said, running a hand through his hair. He swallowed nervous as he glanced back at the diva. She hadn't moved from her spot - and, in fact, the only movement he detected from her was her shaking. She didn't even seem to be _blinking_. 

When the two men had left - reluctantly, at that, Adam returned to the redhead's side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

"It's going to be all right, sweetie..." he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. God, she felt so cold... 

He shifted his gaze back to the small table across the room, wondering why an empty plate with a fork resting upon it - and a mug full of coffee would terrify her so badly. And then again, he wondered where they'd come from in the first place - and who had come in here and left them in his locker room. 

He couldn't help the feeling that someone had deliberately placed them here, knowing _exactly_ how Amy would react to seeing them... 

**Part 19**

**Back**


	19. Chapter 19

* * *

As Adam steered her out of the arena, Amy had pulled out of her catatonic-like state, much to the blond man's relief. 

Before leaving, the Canadian had gone to Stephanie's office, the redhead by his side, as he couldn't bear to leave her alone after her horrible fright - and he'd told the General Manager what had happened. That is, he'd explained as best he knew _how_, since he still didn't know for sure what the hell was going on. 

The brunette had frowned with concern and confusion, wondering, like him, how a plate, fork and cup of coffee would have such a terrible effect on Amy. Neither one of them could figure it out - but somehow, Adam knew there were missing pieces to this puzzle. 

As he'd escorted the diva out of the arena, they'd gone down the hall the way they'd come. Adam hadn't even bothered with a shower before leaving - although he was sweaty, there hadn't been any time to waste. He knew that the most important thing was to get Amy the hell out of there. 

Now, back in their rental car, the blond man buckled himself into the driver's seat, and he glanced over at his stricken fiancee. The redhead was still so obviously afraid of something - what exactly, he wasn't sure. With still shaking hands, she managed to secure her seatbelt. 

"God damn it..." the tall blond man muttered, gritting his teeth, his strong jaw firmly set. He felt so damned helpless. He wished he knew what he could do to help Amy, but he didn't have a fucking clue... 

"I...I'm sorry, Adam..." 

He turned his head sharply to gaze at the redhead, who was now slightly slumped in the passenger's seat, her arms crossed loosely, yet protectively, over her chest. A sharp, loving type of pain suddenly inhabited his chest at how very small and vulnerable she looked... 

"Oh, sweetie..." Adam reached over for her hand, grasping it firmly but gently, lovingly. "Why are you apologizing?" 

"Because of...the way I acted back there," she said, her voice nearly a whisper as she gazed sadly into his eyes. 

"Ames...baby," the blond Canadian spoke, "whatever in hell is going on, it's _not _your fault...We'll find out what all of this means - _together_." He leaned across the seats to press a kiss firmly on her lips, and the redhead responded, grateful for the contact, his love and immeasurable understanding. She wondered what she'd ever done to be so fortunate as to have him. 

Sometimes, deep down, she didn't feel she _deserved _someone as good and fine as him... 

"Hey, have you seen Adam and Amy again?" Kurt Angle asked as he spotted Brock Lesnar several feet away in the hall as he exited his locker room. 

"No, man...Actually, I stopped by the locker room after my shower to see how she was doing, but...they're gone," the bigger man replied. He shook his head. "Whatever happened, it really spooked that poor woman." 

"I know," the Olympian replied, his expression sad. "I've never seen Amy like that. It's a shame, what they're both going through - they're good kids. They don't deserve that..." 

"Hey, what's going on, guys?" 

The two men looked up to see Trish Stratus several feet away. The little blonde was dressed in a pair of worn blue jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt with 'Toronto' printed across the front, done in glossy red. She pulled her wheeled suitcase behind her in her right hand. 

"Trish...Hi," Kurt said, barely managing a smile for the petite diva due to the dire situation. 

"Hello, Miss Stratus," Lesnar replied with a polite nod, which caused the blonde to arch an eyebrow in surprise - she'd forgotten how very formal Brock could be with people he didn't know too well, and she certainly fell into that category. 

"Please, Brock - call me Trish." 

"Sorry - Trish." 

"What's going on?" the petite Canadian asked, glancing from The Next Big Thing to Angle with confusion. "I just stopped by Adam's locker room, but neither he nor Amy are there...and I know I heard you just mention them." She looked pointedly at the Olympic Gold Medalist. 

Kurt shook his head. "I guess after what happened earlier, they must have left." 

"After what happened earlier?" Trish parroted. "_What _happened earlier?" 

"Well, I don't exactly _know_," Angle said. "But we heard a scream, and then Brock and I ran to Adam's locker room, because that was where it seemed to come from..." 

The blonde diva's eyes widened somewhat, a sickening feeling coming over her. She wondered what had spooked her friend so badly. 

"Yeah," Lesnar said. "And sure enough, it was Miss Dumas...I mean _Amy _who screamed. She was on the floor and looked totally freaked out." 

"Oh, God..." Trish breathed. She shut her eyes tightly for a beat, again wondering what had happened. She supposed Amy had not been asleep this time, so her visions of whatever must have happened in the past must be coming in even stronger now, more demanding. She shook her head, running a hand through her long blonde hair. 

"Trish! _There _you are!" 

The blonde, as well as Brock and Angle, turned to glance in the direction of the voice and saw Matt and Jeff Hardy rushing their way. 

The dark-haired man, the one who'd spoken, reached the diva first. 

"We were just looking for you in the women's locker room, but Dawn Marie told us you'd left." 

"Yeah...I went looking for Amy and Adam, but they weren't in their locker room." Then, glancing from the elder to the younger brother, she said seriously, "Guys, something happened...According to Kurt and Brock, Amy freaked out." 

"Oh, shit..." Jeff, who'd been silent up until now, muttered. He ran a hand through his blue locks. "What happened?" He looked at Angle as he asked the question. 

"None of us know," Kurt replied, gesturing helplessly. "I suppose it's something to do with what happened with the baby...Poor girl..." 

None of them noticed Paul Heyman lurking several feet away as he spied and eavesdropped on their conversation. If one of them had looked his way, he or she would have noticed the satisfied smirk on the man's face. 

**Part 20**

**Back**


	20. Chapter 20

* * *

_December 10, 1998_

_The young woman didn't know how much more she could take..._

_By now, she'd been in this hellhole for at least a week, although she hardly possessed any concept of time any longer._

_She was beginning to lose all hope of ever getting out of this place..._

_She cringed in horror at the memory of what had happened the other day - when she had tried to fight the bastard again. She knew he had suffered some minor burns to the face from the coffee she'd tossed at him, and fortunately for him but unfortunately for _her_, his eyes had been spared._

_The woman had hidden in the bathroom of the dingy basement for awhile, cowering and crying in the corner. She'd been unable to believe that there were bars on that damn tiny bathroom window. It would have been her means to escape - and perhaps had been her _only _way out._

_And then, the psycho, John, had come in - he'd had a key after all. There'd been nowhere for her to go, so she'd tried to stand her ground, fight back. It hadn't done much good, as she'd been weak and aching from everything she'd endured in the past several days - but she'd be damned if she'd sit by and act all docile and allow him to do whatever the hell he wanted without a fight! She still had _that _much strength and willpower left. Because of that - although he'd beaten her badly enough to leave visible bruises, and although her body was wracked by pain - he hadn't won yet._

Yet... _Now, she shuddered at these thoughts. It had been an absolute miracle that the asshole hadn't raped her again, or at least _tried _to. But she wasn't going to complain about that. On the contrary, she counted her lucky stars he hadn't violated her in that disgusting, horrible way again. At least the bruises he left on her flesh would eventually heal - the bruises in her mind and on her soul would not..._

_The woman raised her head painfully, her left eye aching from where he'd punched her. She knew she had a shiner, as she could actually see a blackish bruising at the edge of her vision. She gazed up at the window above her, its small curtain drawn as usual. She still hadn't gotten the opportunity to check out this one, but she prayed it wouldn't have bars on it like the one in the bathroom._

_She had devised a mental plan on how and when to conduct her examination. There was a step ladder in the small closet further in the room, near the bathroom. Sometime, when she knew the maniac was out, she would get in there and retrieve it - and then she would check the window. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could even somehow get out of it and out to safety..._

_She also finally realized where she was. She'd been in Queens, New York, as the company had held a live show at the Elk's Lodge on the 4th. She realized she was _still_ in Queens. The small glance out the bathroom window had given her a suspicion of this, and then the asshole had confirmed it by mentioning something of the location. Naturally, he wouldn't tell her exactly _where _in Queens this was - not that the knowledge would do her any good if she couldn't get out of here..._

_Damn it... If only there were a phone down here. It would be so much easier for her to get some help - she knew when this John character went out - that is, when she was awake and alert._

_Suddenly, as though reading her bitter thoughts, she heard footsteps and knew the psychotic bastard was paying her a visit. Oh, no... She shrank back against the wall instinctively, deciding it might be best to play catatonic this time after what had happened when she'd last paid him a whole heap of attention._

_"Angelica..."_

_God, she hated that voice... What was more, she was really beginning to hate that name, too. She decided that when - not if - she got out of here and returned to work, she was going to see Paul E. and insist on her stage name being changed._

_"Angelica, how are you?" John asked, his voice actually sounding concerned. Dear God, this guy really _was _a nut... Just the other day, he'd nearly beaten her senseless, and now he was asking how she was..._

_The woman ducked her head as the bastard knelt down, and she cringed, shutting her eyes tightly as his hand was suddenly on her face. So much for playing catatonic..._

_"That doesn't look so good..." he said, hissing through his teeth as he checked her black eye. He raised a finger, gently touching it as though it were something wondrous to be scrutinized._

_She hated this - she didn't want this prick touching her... She felt the bile rising from the back of her throat and bit back the scream she felt building within..._

**Part 21**

**Back**


	21. Chapter 21

* * *

Theystepped into the hotel room almost tentatively, not quite knowing what to expect. 

Adam was almost certain that something else might be lying in wait - something that, although innocent unto itself, had sinister overtones and would spook Amy yet again. 

As he pushed the door open, he could see nothing awry. They stepped inside. Everything certainly _looked _clear. But, as he'd come to realize over the last couple of days, looks could be very deceiving. 

"Thank God..." the diva breathed, and he knew she meant she was relieved to be back here so she could get some rest. Then, as though confirming his thoughts, she said, "All I want to do is sleep." 

The tall blond raked a hand through his hair as he shut the door, locking it behind him as well. 

"Are you going to be okay, Ames?" 

"Yeah...as soon as I fall asleep, I'll be fine," she said, then regretted it. "I...I'm sorry, Adam...I sound like I'm trying to escape from _you _in sleep. I-I didn't mean it that way." 

"I know," he replied gently, placing a hand on hers as he sat beside her on the edge of the bed. "But baby, something's really been bothering me since we left the arena..." _That _was only partly true, as a lot of things were bothering him - Trish's guess about her past the worst and most pressing. 

"What?" the redhead asked as she eyed him speculatively. 

"I just...Well, I can't get this out of my mind," the Canadian said, letting out a sigh before he continued. "Why...What made you freak out when you saw that cup of coffee and plate? I've been thinking about it non-stop since we left the arena, and..." he met her hazel gaze squarely but gently. "I just can't make any sense of it." 

Amy blinked, swallowing hard as she shifted her eyes from him to the floor beyond. How was she going to answer this one? She didn't even know the answer herself. Unless... 

When she still didn't respond after a full five minutes, the blond man gently touched her shoulder. "Ames?" 

"I...I'm not sure..." she finally admitted, though reluctantly. 

"You're not sure?" As he voiced the question, Adam felt a horrible, sinking sensation in his gut. What could _that _mean? 

"No...unless...unless it's got something to do with my dreams." 

"Oh..." The Canadian eyed her with a further sinking feeling. Oh, God... Little by little, slowly but surely, what Trish had speculated was making more and more sense. 

God damn it... 

"Well, if any of you guys run into Adam and Amy later, give them my regards," Kurt said, glancing from Trish, then to Matt and fnally Jeff. 

"Sure thing," the petite blonde said. A moment later, Angle and Lesnar walked away to return to their respective locker rooms, leaving the blonde diva and the Hardys alone. 

"Man..." Jeff said, running his free hand through his purplish-blue locks. "Poor Ames...God, I have a horrible feeling about all of this..." 

Trish frowned. "God...I...I wonder what exactly happened in their locker room," she said in a soft voice. 

Matt ran his hands through his long dark-brown hair. "I wonder about that, too...maybe we can ask Adam about it later. Come on, guys...Let's get out of here." The elder Hardy began to walk down the hallway, heading in the direction of the parking lot. 

Trish turned her head to gaze up at Jeff, noting how the young man's face looked so pensive. He appeared almost to be holding back tears. 

"Jeff?" 

"Damn it...I just wish there was something I could do to _help _her," he said, his green shining eyes watching after his retreating brother. He quickly shifted his gaze to the diva's brown eyes. 

Trish shook her head sadly. "Me too...I wish I'd been wrong about-" She abruptly stopped speaking, her eyes narrowing as she stared at something - or _someone _- behind Jeff. 

The rainbow-haired man turned his head to see what the problem was and frowned when he met the cold gaze of a smiling Paul Heyman. 

"Isn't this cozy?" the man said, eyeing the two of them. "Big brother stepped away, so now little brother has the fair lady all to himself..." 

"What do you want, Paul?" the blonde demanded, her pretty face grown angry. 

"I already told you, honey," Heyman said, stepping closer and reaching out to touch a lock of Trish's hair. She recoiled back as though in horror, a feeling of disgust taking over. 

Then, suddenly, he turned sharply toward Jeff, a look of shock and fear replacing his sly grin. 

"Don't ever touch her again, Heyman..." the younger Hardy warned as he released the man's shirt collar. "Now, get lost." 

Paul did as he was told, a slight scowl taking form on his fat face as he backed off. 

"Thanks, Jeff," the little blonde diva said gratefully. 

"Don't mention it, Trish," the young man replied with a wink. After a beat, he said, "C'mon...let's get out of here before Matt starts to wonder..." 

**Part 22**

**Back**


	22. Chapter 22

* * *

Trish bit her lip as she walked slowly down the hotel hallway. 

She was a bundle of nerves as she contemplated her visit to Amy - but that was silly. Amy was her best friend, and she wanted and _needed _to be there for her in her hour of need. The only problem was that the redhead didn't know herself exactly _why _she was in this current state. 

Trish raised her hand to knock on the door to what she knew was Amy and Adam's room. She heard noises coming from within and hugged herself, holding back a shiver as she waited. 

The door opened, and the blonde woman gazed up at Adam uncertainly. 

"Hi...Can I-" She stopped abruptly as she noticed, beyond the tall blond man that the redhead was seemingly sound asleep, curled up on the bed in the middle of the room. 

Adam slipped out into the hallway, holding the door open just a crack with his foot as he regarded the little blonde. 

"She's finally asleep," he said in sotto voce. "And by God, I'm hoping it's a peaceful sleep this time..." 

"I hope so, too," Trish whispered. Then, raising her gaze to meet his, "I heard from Kurt what happened at the arena tonight." 

"Oh..." The tall Canadian man ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, that was pretty bad." He trained his green gaze down for a beat, then met her eyes again. "Trish, I...I hate to say this, but I'm starting to think you were right..." 

The blonde arched an eyebrow at that statement. 

"Things have been so weird lately," he continued. "I...don't know what else to think...But like you said at the hospital the other day, she's probably exhibiting classic patterns..." He closed his eyes tightly, hating the weariness he felt - but mostly hating the horrific situation. He was becoming more and more certain that, at one point in her life, his fiancee had been kidnapped and raped. And she didn't remember that it had even happened... 

All of a sudden, Adam and Trish were startled as they heard a scream coming from within the room. The petite blonde's brown eyes widened as she met the man's eyes, which were filled with as much alarm as she felt. Quickly, they both shoved their way into the room. 

At first, Trish felt a small measure of relief that Amy was actually awake - but that was short-lived. The redhead stared at them with wide, terror-filled hazel eyes for a beat, then, as she got to her feet, began shaking almost uncontrollably. 

"Oh, my God - Adam, what-" 

Trish thought at first that Amy was merely shivering - but being mid-April, it wasn't even cold. 

"Ames...baby?" the Canadian man said softly, tentatively. 

The tortured diva stared blankly at him for a few seconds until she suddenly spun on her heel and took off for the bathroom. 

"Oh, God...!" 

Amy bolted directly to the toilet, lifted its lid and seat and retched violently. In seconds, her stomach was completely empty. 

"Oh, my God!" Trish exclaimed as she chased Adam into the lavatory. "She's having more classic symp-" She swiftly shut up as the blond man turned sharply toward her, his green eyes wide as he gave her an almost fierce look of warning. 

"Not now, Trish..." he said softly. At the moment, all he had in mind was to tend to the misery-filled redhead. 

The petite blonde stood by helplessly as Adam rushed to fill a plastic cup with water. Then, not wanting to be in the way or feel useless, she turned to grab a washcloth off the sink and moistened it with cool water. 

Amy was nearly panting, and neither Adam nor Trish was sure if it was from her fright or from the vision or from the effort it took to purge her stomach. She gratefully allowed the blond man to hold the cup of water for her so she could drink. 

"Here, sweetie..." Trish said afterward. She placed the washcloth she was holding against her friend's face, blotting away the thin sheen of sweat that had formed on her face. The blonde woman was willing to bet it was a _cold _sweat, too. 

"I...I heard..." The redhead's speech was slightly broken as she gasped breaths of air. "Angelica..." 

"What, baby?" Adam asked, his eyes widening slightly in alarm at the sound of the name escaping the redhead's lips. Very briefly, he met Trish's gaze and saw that she too looked frightened. 

"Angelica..." Amy repeated. "The woman that was...was...raped by that maniac...Her name is Angelica..." 

**Part 23**

**Back**


	23. Chapter 23

* * *

Paul Heyman grinned maliciously to himself as he watched Jeff Hardy and Trish Stratus walking together down the arena hallway. 

Actually, he was grinning as his gaze was focused on the petite blonde, but when he shifted his beady brown eyes to Jeff, he scowled. 

That one was nosy... And, to Paul, nosiness was not a very good trait in a person. It made them nothing but a hindrance. 

The other day, he'd overheard parts of the conversation not only between Jeff and Trish, but with Matt Hardy as well. The three of them, and, dishearteningly enough, Kurt Angle and even Brock Lesnar, were onto something... They were all speculating as to the problem with Amy Dumas. That was _not _good. 

As Heyman turned back to continue down the hall to his locker room, he frowned. Damn that little blonde bitch Trish the most of those five - she was too smart for her own good. She would probably have everything figured out in no time if she didn't already. 

Late 1998 was a very significant point in time for Paul. So much had gone down then, most of it not good. His memories were vivid... 

During that time, Amy had been employed in his now former company, ECW - Extreme Championship Wrestling. Paul had enjoyed the power he'd wielded back then - and he didn't mean power over his employees. On the contrary, he was quite lenient with them - but he'd developed more than a bit of a cult following with ECW, and wrestling fans all around had eaten up the whole 'Extreme' thing. He'd given the C.E.O. of his now current company of employment some pretty stiff competition. 

Amy Dumas had been pretty much low-key during the majority of her stint in ECW. However, she'd very quickly developed into a fan favorite - for one person in particular... 

She hadn't been a redhead back then, as she'd still been sporting her natural brunette shade. Her double tongue piercing and the huge tattoo on her right shoulder had made her unique and unforgettable - and she'd certainly been that to _him_... All of that and much, much more... 

When Paul looked upon Amy now, he could completely understand - what was not to like about the woman? She was stunning. Well, he had to acknowledge there was definitely _one _thing _not _to like about her - her damned boyfriend. And he'd heard rumors that Adam Copeland was now _more _than just a boyfriend - that the couple had gotten engaged on Amy's birthday. 

He knew she was starting to have flashbacks. And he was _glad_. Amy Dumas, plain and simple, was a bitch... A bitch who _deserved _to suffer... And if Paul had his way, he would make absolute certain that suffer she would - or he would _die _trying... 

Trish sat morosely in the Hardys' locker room, her mind a million miles away as Matt and Jeff were conversing. 

"Hey..." Matt said, leaning toward her and waving a hand in front of her face. "What's wrong?" 

The blonde looked up, glancing from one brother to the other, instantly noting the look of understanding on the younger one's face. 

"I..." 

"You're way too quite, Trish," Matt said seriously. 

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just a little distracted." She smiled nervously. 

"Well, we were just goin' over what we're gonna do tonight with the new storyline and all..." 

Not only were the Hardy Boyz going to reunite on tonight's SmackDown after a one-on-one match against one another - but Trish was supposed to make her first appearance and join up with them as well. 

"Matt, leave her alone," Jeff said, reaching out for his brother's arm. "She'll be fine..." 

Trish gave the colorful-haired man a grateful look. 

"Okay...Whatever. I'll be back." With that, the dark-haired man turned and left the locker room, leaving his brother alone with the little blonde. 

Trish twisted her hands nervously in her lap. Then, eyes downcast, she said, "Jeff...I feel sick..." 

"What's the matter?" he asked, concern on his face as he sat beside her on the couch upon which she was perched. 

"It...it's not _me _- it's...Amy..." Her face was pale as she considered telling Jeff about the previous night, when she'd gone to the redhead's hotel room. Then, she quickly made up her mind as she looked up and took in the stark concern the young man was obviously feeling. 

"Jeff, I'm glad Matt left the room..." she continued. "Because I have to tell you something..." 

**Part 24**

**Back**


	24. Chapter 24

* * *

Trish looked Jeff in the eye seriously, praying she wouldn't start crying as she broached the tender subject.

"I know you and Matt know what happened to Amy..." she began. "I know how close you two have been with her, and for so long...What...what exactly happened?"

The rainbow-haired young man stared into the diva's warm, concerned brown eyes for a beat, then ran a hand through his hair.

"Oh, lord...I really shouldn't be the one to tell this story..." Jeff muttered. "It's not mine to tell, first of all, and-"

"Jeff, you _know _I'm not interested in it for gossip!" Trish cried as she winced. She didn't like raising her voice to him, but at the same time, she hated what had happened to her friend - and, even more so, she despised the disgusting monster that had done it to her - whoever he was.

"I know that, Trish..." the younger Hardy replied in a soft voice. "I'm sorry..."

"No, don't-"

"You're right," Jeff interrupted her. "Amy _was _raped nearly four years ago...She was in Queens, New York with ECW for some shows at the Elk's Lodge...and she never made it past the first one - because some guy grabbed her..."

The blonde diva's eyes widened in horror, and her heart nearly stopped its beating.

"She was reported missing for nine days," he continued. "She was traveling with Rob Van Dam, and when she didn't turn up for the show, he got worried and called the police...but they wouldn't do anything until Amy was missing for twenty-four hours since she was an adult...And-"

Trish was listening, rapt, full of horror - and revulsion against whomever had snatched her dear friend - when suddenly, the locker room door opened. Matt had returned, and now Jeff was all clammed up.

"What's goin' on?" the dark-haired man asked, then frowned when he caught the look on Trish's face. "What's wrong?"

The little blonde met his brown eyes. "N-nothing..." She shook her head.

Matt appeared skeptical as he arched a brow and eyed her strangely, almost warily. However, he didn't press the issue any further.

Jeff glanced from his older brother to meet the young woman's eyes. Trish appeared to be near tears. He made a mental note to speak to her again - somewhere more private - after they were through here for the night.

Adam sat up in the hotel room bed, his hand palm-down on the small nightstand at his left side.

He drummed his fingers on the top of the meager piece of furniture, deeply lost in thought.

He was trying to think of a way to broach the subject of counseling to Amy - but he didn't know where to begin. It was such an awfully touchy subject. The redhead had obviously been through a lot - and had seen far too much trauma and heartache in her life - and the tall blond man only wanted to help.

Amy came into the room from the bathroom, where she had been preparing for bed. Although all she'd done was pretty much stand in the Canadian's corner during his match earlier that night, she was exhausted.

Adam gazed up at the redheaded diva with concern, his eyes never leaving her face as she climbed into the bed beside him.

"Baby..."

She turned her head to meet his emerald eyes almost curiously.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure..." she replied, nodding.

Adam lowered his gaze to her hands, which were lying loosely in her lap. Slowly, he placed his left hand on them, grasping her right firmly, gently. Then, raising his eyes back to meet hers, he spoke again.

"This Angelica in your nightmares...What does she look like?"

The diva frowned at the question, her brow marred by minor lines. She remained silent and still as a stone as she thought, with the exception of her hazel eyes, which blinked rapidly.

"She..." The redhead's eyes widened as she gazed into Adam's eyes with evident terror. "She looks like _me_...Except for her brown hair, she looks like _me_..."

The blond man's heart nearly stopped as he felt chilled to the very bone...

**Part 25**

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	25. Chapter 25

She felt as though she were dying...

She was drowning, her head feeling heavy under water, and when she tried to lift it, she found she couldn't. A heavy weight was holding her down and under. No - it was a pair of inhumanly strong hands...

She struggled mightily, her arms flailing ineffectively at her sides as she desperately tried to raise her head, stop herself from dying.

One word came to her mind during the frightening ordeal - survival...

She'd been here far too long to just simply die. She'd been here over a week, but damn it, and hour was too long a time to spend in this hellhole! She was not going to go through all of this shit, this madness, only to end up dead at the hands of this lunatic...

The woman gasped and sputtered as her head was suddenly jerked upward - hard. The hand that still remained entangled in her long, now wet, brown hair, felt brutal in the way it handled her.

"You crazy little beautiful bitch... Don't you _ever_ try a stunt like that again..."

His voice was so soft, and surprising calm as he threatened her, and that terrified her more than if he'd been screaming at the very top of his lungs.

She knew one thing for sure - that this John was one-hundred percent, certifiably insane. In fact, there was no way he _couldn't_ be insane. Even if he'd planned, plotted and calculated the kidnapping, he was definitely a mental case.

The woman began to shake as she continued coughing and sputtering, choking as she brought up some of the bathtub water. Her bloodshot eyes stared up at him fearfully. This was the second time he'd done this to her. Somehow, she'd actually given the sick bastard the benefit of the doubt that he wouldn't, after he hadn't done it after the first time.

She would never make that mistake again... Where this asshole was concerned, she had to expect the unexpected. Anything was possible because he was crazy - and crazy people were unpredictable.

"Don't you ever - and I mean _ever_ - defy me again!" the man said, this time yelling. He smiled, his features softening somewhat.

"Angelica...I know you're a bit of a rebel, but try to tame that part of yourself down...it's for your own good..."

She stared at him with widened, terror-filled eyes, her choking finally subsided. She thought about how oddly accurate his statement was - after all, she _did_ have the word 'rebel' tattooed on the back of her neck in Russian.

She couldn't speak. All she could do was continue to shake, the spasms worsening by the moment.

Amy woke up abruptly, her breathing heavy and almost ragged as she glanced around furtively.

Adam - he was the first thing she saw, and for his beloved presence she was grateful. They were in a rental car... Traveling to the next city... She'd fallen asleep shortly after they'd started their trip.

Oh, God...

"Ames...Baby, are you all right?" The blond man's eyes were filled with concern as he eyed her.

She shook her head, and for a second, thought she wouldn't be able to speak.

"N-no...I..." She looked at him sorrowfully. "I think I'm going to be sick..." The redhead began to cry as she spoke those last seven words.

In a hurry, Adam pulled the car over to the side of the road. The moment he did, Amy undid her seatbelt, unlocked the door and rushed out. From there, she nearly collapsed onto the ground, on hands and knees, and vomited the entire contents of the breakfast she'd eaten not even an hour earlier.

"Oh, God..." The Canadian was nearly weeping himself as he knelt beside his fiancee on the ground, one arm gently supporting her as she continued to get sick.

He told himself that this was it. He was going to get her help - even if he had to drag her kicking and screaming to get it...

Part 26

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	26. Chapter 26

Trish sat in her hotel room alone, her thoughts consumed by her friend Amy and what she was going through.

It was horrible. No one should have to endure such disgusting, vile things to happen to them. The last news she'd heard was Adam telling her, earlier tonight, that, on their way to the house show, he'd had to pull over to the side of the road because Amy was about to get sick. She'd been asleep and had another nightmare - one she still didn't realize in her conscious mind had actually happened - to _her_.

The little blonde stood up and made her way to the window, her eyes welling up with tears as she remembered her fellow Canadian's words.

_"She said the bastard tried to kill Angelica...that he held her head under water in a bathtub...She said she started drowning..._

Trish bit her lip so hard she thought she tasted blood. The hot tears trickled their way quickly down her cheeks as she imagined the horror her best friend had seen and experienced. It was unfathomable.

If she ever got the chance to 'meet' the asshole in this lifetime, she would kill him herself...

The Canadian diva was suddenly startled as the phone on the nightstand began jangling. She stared at it for a beat, then went to answer.

"H-hello?"

"Trish?" It was Jeff's voice on the other end.

"Yeah..."

"Hey, are you all right?" the young man asked, and the blonde could clearly discern all the worry in his voice. It touched her in a profound way.

"Yeah, I'm...Oh, why don't you just come over here?"

"Now? Okay, sure..."

After exchanging goodbyes, Trish again stood at the window, staring out into the dark night as she waited...

Shortly after, there was a knock on the door, and the colorful-headed man called to her from the hall.

"Trish, it's me!"

The petite blonde rushed to the door, instinctively drying the tears on her face with the backs of her hands. Then, when she was satisfied that no traces of the moisture remained, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Jeff gazed down at her, his heart catching at the sight of the diva's tear-stained face. Mascara streaks marred that lovely countenance, and he flinched slightly as he entered her hotel room.

"Trish..."

The little blonde closed and locked the door behind him, and, as she turned around to face him, her breath caught, an uncomfortable heavy feeling in her throat.

"Jeff, Amy had another flashback..." she blurted. She wasn't sure if he already knew about this. Chances were he did, since he was such a close friend to the redhead, but Trish couldn't be sure.

"I know...She told me about it."

"What?"

"Amy told me about her latest 'nightmare' at the arena earlier..." Jeff explained. He crossed over to the small desk halfway across the room, pulled out the chair, turned it around backwards and sat down.

"She was so spooked about it, but...I don't blame her..." He raised his head and gazed into her face with his deep green eyes.

Trish ran a hand over her long blonde hair as she slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, near the younger Hardy brother.

"It...it's just horrible!" she cried, fearful of the tears coming again. "Amy is such a wonderful, beautiful person...She doesn't deserve-"

Her speech was cut off as she suddenly became overwhelmed by her emotions. Trish bowed her head into her hands and sobbed bitterly, her tears scalding hot.

A second or two later, she felt Jeff's hand in her hair, his touch gentle and tender. She cried for another moment before raising her head to meet his eyes. She felt so miserable.

Jeff moved his hand from her hair to her cheek, and it felt soft - and somehow, natural.

"I just feel so helpless...but I want to do something to _help_ her..." Trish murmured.

Jeff gazed at her silently for a moment before speaking again.

"By just being her friend, by continuing to be there for her, you're helping..." the young man said softly.

The blonde nodded but didn't seem convinced.

Jeff moved to stand, turned the chair the right way, then pulled the distraught diva into his arms. And he just held her for a long time...


	27. Chapter 27

Adam stood just outside the door to Trish's hotel room, his head down as he contemplated what he needed to ask the little blonde.

It was pretty late, nearly one-thirty in the morning, so he was reluctant about knocking. He figured he would disturb the diva, as she was most likely asleep.

The tall blond man raised a hand and raked his fingers through his long hair as he mentally weighed the pros and cons of this visit. The pros definitely beat out the cons - his reason and urgency for a visit now were far too important. And that made up his mind. He curled his hand into a fist knocked.

A moment later, the door was unlocked and opened, and Adam blinked in surprise at the person standing in the doorway.

It was Jeff Hardy.

"Oh, hi...Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything..."

"No, not at all..." the rainbow-haired man said, and as he held the door open wider as if to invite the Canadian in, Trish suddenly appeared.

"Adam...Hi...What brings you by so late?" The blonde's expression darkened. "Amy...? She didn't have another nightmare...?"

"No...Well, not since the last one..." he said wearily as he stepped into the room. The truth was, since he and the redhead had turned in about an hour and a half earlier, Adam hadn't _allowed_ himself to sleep. He felt the overwhelming need - urge - to stay awake, to monitor her.

Trish seated herself on the edge of the bed, folding her hands primly on her lap as she eyed her friend.

"Jeff and I have been talking about her..." she admitted, her gaze traveling to the younger Hardy brother. "We're really worried about her..."

Adam's green eyes glanced from Trish to Jeff, then back to the blonde woman.

"Adam, Jeff told me what happened to Amy..."

"What do you mean?"

Trish swallowed hard, her gaze falling to the floor.

"He and Matt _know_ what happened..._Everything_..."

Adam glanced back at Jeff Hardy, whose face looked grave and pale. If he didn't know any better, the young man most likely wished the diva hadn't been quite so candid just now.

"You...you _know_?" he asked, his gaze still trained on Jeff.

The North Carolinian raised his head to meet the tall blond man's gaze, and it was then that Adam realized his eyes were full of tears. It shook him to his very core...

Jeff nodded. "I know as much as I've been told...as much as I've _heard_. The only person who could ever know the entire story is Amy herself...and the bastard that..." He allowed his voice to trail off.

Adam's green eyes grew wide at his friend's words, his heart thundering uncomfortably in his chest. He felt sick and hoped he would not vomit at any moment.

"Jeff..." the blond man managed. Again, he shifted his gaze to eye Trish, who sat somberly, her head down. Adam could see the tears streaming down her face. "...What happened to Amy? What...What do you know...?"

The young man raked a hand through his long, colorful hair, swallowing hard as he looked up in an attempt to meet the tall Canadian's eyes squarely.

"She was in Queens, New York, with ECW, for a few shows at the Elk's Lodge..." Jeff began, his voice barely above a whisper. "And on her way back to the hotel one of those nights, she was alone...And...some guy grabbed her..." The Hardy brother closed his eyes as he paused, taking a deep breath. Then, "He held her captive in his basement for nine days...He...he _raped_ her..."


	28. Chapter 28

Paul Heyman was pretty pleased with himself as he considered the results of what he had been planning.

He'd already received the deisred effect of his little scheme with the plate, fork and cup of coffee... He'd made certain to get them into the locker room Dumas had been sharing with Copeland - and it had all worked like a charm... Who'd have thought that items as meager as dishes and a utensil would affect a person so negatively? Then again, he acknowledged, this wasn't your ordinary, run-of-the-mill situation.

Heyman knew pretty much every last detail of what had happened to Amy nearly four years earlier. It was something that had been very near to him, of which he'd been fairly closely involved - and after all this time, it still affected _him_ very deeply...

Paul smiled wickedly to himself as he tested the equipment spread out in front of him on the hotel bed. Thank goodness he'd had the resourcefulness to do this - he had every nuance, every note, down to par.

Good thing he was talented that way... And people like that bitch Stephanie McMahon and her obnoxious brother Shane had claimed he had no business being in this business! Because ECW had failed, they blamed him for lacking not only business savvy, but personality as well.

He was going to prove them wrong... He was going to prove his worth, and at the same time, avenge Johnny...

And if Amy Dumas were driven mad in the process, it would be even _more_ of a bonus...

Adam had been relieved when Amy had fallen asleep quickly, and without incident.

It had been an uneventful evening, the redhead experiencing no flashbacks - but this occurring had become a regular thing, and the night had still been fairly young when they'd turned in.

In his sleep, he turned onto his side, snuggling against his fiance.

All of a sudden, a voice penetrated the silence of the night.

"I'm coming to _get_ you, Angelica...!"

Amy stirred suddenly in her sleep, a frown furrowing her otherwise smooth brow.

"You're mine, Angelica - _mine_...! You belong to _me_, and you will never leave here..."

The redhead shifted, turning over onto her back for a moment until she turned again and ended up on her left side.

"Don't make me hurt you again..."

Amy moaned softly, no longer in a peaceful slumber. Now, all she wanted to do was wake up. That was what she had to do - awaken and get the _hell_ out of there - away from that madman John and the cursed basement in which she was trapped. For God's sake, it had been days since she'd been outside...

The redheaded diva suddenly bolted wide awake, her hazel eyes wide open with fright.

"Oh, my God...oh, my God..." she was babbling. John was _here_... He was hiding...

But that was impossible, wasn't it? He was...

Amy turned her head frantically from side-to-side, barely even noticing Adam lying on the bed beside her. All she could think of doing was getting the hell out of the hotel room.

Without another thought given to the matter, she leapt out of the bed - and out the door...


	29. Chapter 29

"You know what?" Jay muttered to Chris as the two made their way out of the elevator in the hotel. "That is the _last_ time I go out clubbing with you!"

"Aw, you're such a big baby..." Jericho said. "Besides, I saw that cute little brunette first..."

The other blond man just gave him a dirty look.

"What the-" Chris frowned as he caught sight of a red blur several feet down the hall. "Did you see that?" he asked, pointing in the general direction.

"What?" Jay asked, his gaze following his friend's finger and line of vision. He yawned.

"I just saw someone run," Chris explained. "And I could have sworn it was..." He let his voice trail off as they suddenly stopped in front of the hotel room they were sharing. "Come on..." the blond said, tapping his friend on the arm.

He quickened his step as he continued down the hallway in the direction where he'd seen the blur rushing by.

Jay frowned but followed Jericho. He was tired, and he was feeling confused as a result.

As they neared the corner of the hallway, the two blond men found themselves staring with shock, and the spectacle before them.

It was Amy... The redhead was cringing and cowering against the wall, slightly crouched.

Chris winced, his heart going out to his troubled friend. She was clad in her pajamas - a pair of powder-blue boxers and a white and blue striped tank top. Her long red hair was disheveled, her hazel eyes open wide. She appeared frightened and disoriented.

"Oh, God..." Jay breathed.

"Amy...honey, what's wrong? What happened?" Chris asked calmly. Very slowly and carefully, he reached one hand toward the redhead, not wanting to frighten her further, lest she run.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Shh..." Jericho gestured with one hand to Jay, making sure not to take his gaze off of the terrified, troubled diva. The last thing he wanted was to upset her any more than she was already feeling.

The redhead eyed the two of them almost fearfully, and Chris was afraid she was actually asleep but sleepwalking. Then again, her eyes were open - _wide_ open...

"Amy...?"

Amy shook her head, eyes squeezed tightly shut for a few seconds before opening them to stare from Chris to Jay and then back at Chris again.

"Oh, God...Chris? Jay?" She flung herself into Jericho's arms, holding onto the blond man desperately - as though her life depended on it.

Jay edged in closer, concern written across his features. He glanced from the distraught redheaded diva to Chris, who held onto her tightly, gently stroking her long hair as he tried to soothe her.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? What happened?" he crooned.

"I heard...I h-h-heard..."

Chris held Amy back slightly to gaze down into her face seriously. By now, the redhead had tears escaping her hazel eyes, her cheeks moistened by them.

"_What_ did you hear, honey?"

"I-I...I heard John's voice..." She was practically shaking as she spoke, her tear-filled gaze to Jericho's clear blue eyes.

Chris and Jay exchanged confused glances.

"John? Who's John?"

Amy ran a hand nervously through her hair, her voice shaky as she responded.

"The man who abducted Angelica..."


	30. Chapter 30

Adam wasn't quite sure what had woken him out of his sound sleep.

It didn't take him long to realize what it was...

He felt... _alone_. It was as though the room were empty except for himself - that's the way it _felt_ to him...

"Amy...?"

The tall blond man shifted, sitting up in the bed to glance toward the other side.

His redheaded fiancee was not there...

"Ames?"

As Adam stood up and peered down at the diva's side of the bed, he realized the blanket was messy on that side... Evidently, she'd been there awhile ago but had not returned.

The blond man reached down almost tentatively with his left hand to touch the spot on the bed in which Amy had been nestled earlier that night. He frowned when he found it to be cold...

Amy's side of the bed _should_ have been warm...

Adam's heart began to beat more quickly as he trotted to the bathroom. He found himself hoping - almost _praying_ - he'd find her in there. But as he flicked on the overhead light, he saw that she wasn't _there_, either.

"Oh, God..." he muttered, raking a hand through his long, golden hair as he returned to the main room. _Where_ on earth could she be?

He stood in the middle of the room, painfully aware of how quickly his heart and pulse were racing. He couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened - something _horrible_...

The tall Canadian quickly slipped his fet into the pair of shoes he'd left beside the bed. As he tied the laces, he suddenly wondered if Amy might have gone to visit Trish. He knew that, sometimes, women needed to talk to other women about certain things... Still, he had to find out what was going on, why Amy wasn't here...

Then, breaking into his train of thought and startling him, his cell phone began to ring. Somehow, he knew that, whoever was calling, this had to do with Amy...

"Hello?" The Canadian held his breath in anticipation, not wanting to miss a word of anything the person on the other end might say.

"Adam, it's Chris...Amy is over here with Jay and myself...I think you'd better come on over..."

In minutes, Adam was at the door to the hotel room Jericho and Jay were sharing. He knocked urgently, desperately wondering what in hell was going on. How had Amy ended up with Chris and Jay?

"Hey, Adam..." Jay smiled weakly at him as he opened the door, his best friend rushing in immediately.

Without responding, Adam ran a hand through his hair and then over his face as he made a beeline for the redhead, who sat on one of the beds. She was sitting beside Jericho, and, amazingly, she appeared quite calm.

"Adam..." The redhead, still clad in her pajamas, looked up as he came forward.

"I rushed right over..." he explained, and sank to his knees in front of the woman. Reaching out to her, he grasped hold of her hands. "What happened? What are you doing here?"

The redhead opened her mouth to speak, turning her head to exchange glances with Chris. Then, meeting Adam's emerald gaze again, "Chris and Jay found me - out in the hall..."

"_What_ were you doing out in the hall?" the tall blond asked with a frown.

"I...got scared..." Amy replied, her voice slightly shaky, her hazel eyes downcast.

"She thought she heard a voice..." Jericho elaborated.

"I didn't _think_ I heard it - I _heard_ it!"

Adam shook his head, a confused frown on his face.

"What are you two talking about?"

"Adam, I thought I heard the voice of the man who attacked Angelica..."

The tall blond Canadian's blood suddenly ran cold as ice...


	31. Chapter 31

Adam stared ahead at nothing as he sat on a chair in his locker room.

His mind was about a million miles away as Chris Benoit spoke, discussing strategies for their match later that night.

"Hellp? Earth to Adam!" the Crippler spoke, waving a hand in front of the blond man's face.

Adam snapped out of it and back to reality.

"Oh, hey...sorry, man. I guess I just blanked out for a second there, huh?"

"More like for the entire twenty minutes I've been here..." Benoit countered. "Look, you know the drill...I've got to head back to my locker room, so I'll see you later..."

"Okay..." Adam said, raking a hand through his hair as he stood up to see the other man out. "And sorry about spacing out on you..."

"No problem - as long as it doesn't happen in the ring..."

As soon as the Wolverine was gone, Adam stared at the closed locker room door for a beat, his nerves running circles on him. He was distracted by Amy and by everything he knew and suspected. He knew the Hardys knew a lot more than _he_ did, and it tore him up inside.

No matter what, however, he knew one thing for certain - the redhead needed counseling. Even though she didn't remember or realize that the dreams she was experiencing were in fact _memories_, she _still_ needed it...

Adam had to think up a way to broach the subject of this with the diva. He didn't want to frighten her - although, lord knew, she was _already_ terrified. But when he really got down to it, the only way to do that was to just spit it out to her - gently but firmly tell her straight out...

At the very moment, she was not even here... She was in the divas' locker room, speaking with Trish about their respective spots on SmackDown that night. The blond man knew, however, that she'd be back soon enough - and then, there would be no more stalling...

Then, as though she'd read his mind, a knock sounded at the door. Instinctively, Adam knew it was Amy and no one else. And when he opened the door, sure enough, it was _her_.

"Ames..." Adam breathed, his face taking on a look of concern.

Surprisingly, the redhead smiled.

"Trish and I had some good girl talk..." she said, and she reached out and hugged him.

Adam wrapped his arms around the diva, a wince coming to him at how very slender she felt in his arms. She was by no means 'fragile,' but damn if she didn't _feel_ that way in his embrace at that moment.

He rested his chin on the top of her head, gently rubbing against her long auburn hair. His hands were gentle as they held her around the waist. He couldn't help the uneasiness he was feeling.

Amy pulled back slightly so as to gaze up into his green eyes. She frowned when she noted the worry therein.

"What's wrong?"

"Err...Well, funny you should ask that..." he began, and he allowed one of his hands to travel to hers. He squeezed her fingers gently as he decided to just broach the subject that was so prevalent in his mind.

"I think you need some therapy, baby..."

The redhead met his eyes sharply, and her expression darkened at his words.

"Therapy? Adam what are you talking about? How can you not believe I heard that maniac's voice the other night? You of all people should _believe_ me!"

"I _do_..." Adam said, hating himself for the fact that he was lying about that. While he didn't doubt she _had_ heard this man's voice, he had doubts that she'd heard it anywhere other than her subconscious.

"But Amy, something is going on with you, and you need it taken car of - and sooner rather than later..."

"Don't you _patronize_ me, Adam Copeland! I'm telling you, I heard John's voice last night! I-"

"You remember the guy's name?" Adam asked, interrupting her.

She eyed him, a look of stark terror now clear in her hazel eyes.

Dear God... The blond man held his breath in anticipation. He now wanted more than ever to get to the bottom of this horrifying mystery...


	32. Chapter 32

As they were returning to the hotel, Adam remained mostly silent. He was almost completely lost in his thoughts, consumed by what had happened the previous night and by what Amy had told him.

He parked the rental car in a space in the parking lot and looked at the redhead. She appeared thankfully calm.

"Ames, would you mind hanging out with Trish for awhile?"

She looked up sharply.

"Why?"

"Just for about an hour...Please," he said. He didn't want to tell her just yet what he was planning to do. She might get furious and accuse him of not believing her.

Amy arched an eyebrow, wondering what on earth the blond man was thinking. This was one of those rare times when she absolutely could not read him. However, for now, she decided to play along.

"Okay...I'll visit with Trish. Maybe we'll even go to the hotel bar and get plastered." She smiled sardonically, as the thought of doing that had entered her mind on more than one occasion in the not-so-distant past.

"Fine. Thanks, babe."

Adam leaned across the seat and kissed her.

She couldn't help being curious as hell. What was he up to?

The moment the redhead went off to visit her best friend, Adam went directly to their room.

He was now positive that something very strange was going on. After thinking very hard about the events of the last several days and weeks, he was convinced of something...

...Someone had to be pulling something, playing games...

As they'd been leaving the arena a little earlier, the blond man had recalled how Amy had freaked out awhile back, on the night of her birthday, upon seeing a ski mask inside a gift box. Likewise, it wasn't much later afterward that she'd reacted badly to an empty plate, a fork and a cup of coffee that had been left in his locker room.

The question was, _who_ had made sure she would get the ski mask, and who had left those dishes?

Whoever the culprit was, Adam was convinced this was the same person behind the voice Amy had heard the previous night - and he was determined to find out the identity of this person...

Adam began doing a search of the room, positive there had to be something awry within. There had to be a logical - or maybe _not_ so logical - explanation for the redhead having heard that bastard's voice... Maybe the asshole had tracked her after all this time. And if _that_ was the case, the blond man would find him - and make certain to beat him severely...

A thorough search of the bathroom turned out to be fruitless, so Adam decided to turn his attentions back to the main room. He'd searched under the bed first, coming up empty-handed. Then again, that would be the first place a person would hide something such as a tape recorder - because it would be the first place a victim would think of checking if they suspected such a thing.

After what had to be at least an hour, the Canadian sat down on the bed to take a breather.

Damn it, all this searching had gotten him nowhere. He shook his head, exhaustion taking over. But he was still convinced of some type of foul play at work here...

Then, Adam suddenly realized there was one place in the hotel room he hadn't checked. And because it was right beside him, he didn't even have to stand up to do it...

The blond man reached over to his immediate left to the small desk beside the bed, pulling out the drawer.

His eyes widened just a bit at what he uncovered there...

Inside the drawer, there was an object just beside the bible, and he reached in and pulled it out.

Adam felt his blood drain from his face as he stared down at a tape recorder, a cassette tape inside...


	33. Chapter 33

Trish laughed for perhaps the first time in days as she and Jeff made their way back into the hotel.

The two had gone out for a quick meal after the SmackDown taping. While they'd been out, they'd decided to put all unpleasantness to the backs of their minds, opting to enjoy themselves and one another's company for awhile.

"So, that's how I came up with the name 'Poetry in Motion,'" Jeff was explaining.

Trish grinned at him.

"You really are very artsy-fartsy, aren't you?" she teased.

"Yeah - I guess you can say that." The colorful-haired man winked at her.

"I had no idea you wrote poetry! I'd love to read it sometime," the little blonde continued, then wrinkled her nose cutely as she spoke again. "I'm afraid I have too much of a scientific mind myself."

"Well... Explains why you were attending medical school."

"Yeah. But I would love to do something artistic..."

"Your _wrestling_ is very artistic," Jeff offered with a small smile.

Trish laughed heartily.

"You really think so?"

"Most definitely."

They were silent for a beat as the young man inched closer to the diva, a soft smile on her face as she gazed up at him. Jeff dipped his head slightly, Trish craning her neck to meet him halfway. But before their lips could meet, Adam suddenly appeared, the blond man carrying something in his hands as he briskly approached them.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said, noting how his two friends had been about to kiss.

"Hey, man..." Jeff said as he looked up.

"Am I glad I caught you two," the blond man said.

Trish frowned at the expression on her fellow Canadian's face. He was ashen, his green eyes a cross between angry and sad. She could swear she could also detect confusion in them as well.

"What... I thought Amy was with _you_..."

"No," the petite diva said, shaking her head. "I went out with Jeff after the show. I haven't seen her since."

Adam frowned.

"I hope she's with Chris and Jay - or with Matt."

"If she went to Trish's room to hang out and discovered she wasn't there, she's probably with my brother," Jeff offered. "I mean, seein' as our room's right next door."

"Shit..." The tall blond man shook his head, his nerves in a huge bundle. He glanced down at the object in his hand.

"Whatcha got there, Adam?" the younger Hardy Boy asked. "Taping something?"

"No..." He glanced around quickly. "Look, can we... Trish, can we go to your room? I need to talk to you two."

"Sure," the blonde woman said seriously. She noted the extreme worry in the man's handsome face.

Without another word, the trio rushed to Trish's hotel room. The moment they were inside, Adam went to the bed and placed the tape recorder onto it. Then, gesturing at the device with both hands, he explained.

"I found this in my room - hidden in the desk drawer."

The little blonde shifted her brown gaze to her friend.

"So this... this is the culprit from the other night?"

"I would say so," Adam said. "Though I haven't played the damn tape yet. But I think we all know what we're going to hear when I _do_."

"Play it now, man," Jeff said, his green eyes hard as he stared at the machine.

The tall Canadian obliged, leaning over to press rewind, as the tape was at its very end. After a beat, he pressed play, and a horrifying voice began to issue throughout the room.

_"I know where you are, Angelica... You can't hide from me... You_ belong _to me... You-"_

At his limit, Adam pressed stop. He couldn't take it anymore. Afterward, he straightened up to eye each of his friends in turn.

"My God..." Trish breathed, her face filled with horror. "Does this mean the maniac who... attacked Amy is back?"

Before the blond man could voice an opinion or state that he didn't know, Jeff spoke.

"No, he couldn't be... The bastard got fifteen years - without parole."

The two Canadians looked sharply at the colorful-headed man.

Finally, Adam spoke.

"Jeff...?"

The young man ran a hand through his long locks and explained.

"Matt and I were friends with Amy back when it happened. We hadn't seen her for a couple of months, but we found out what happened shortly after Rob phoned us - he was worried about her when she didn't turn up at the hotel the next night, and when she didn't show up for the ECW show at the Elk's Lodge..."

The blond man sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. One thing stood out in his mind.

"The guy never got parole, huh?" he asked, his voice low.

"No," Jeff said. "So... In other words, it can't be _him_ who is doing this..."

Trish's eyes widened as she stared from Jeff, then back to Adam.

"Oh, God..." she began. "So, someone-"

Adam looked up, his green eyes hard and filled with loathing for whoever it was who had taken to tormenting the woman he loved.

"Right - someone is doing all of this _for_ him... Or for himself. Someone is trying to drive Amy insane by forcing her to remember in such a sick way... And you know what?"

Jeff and Trish eyed him expectantly.

"When I find out who's behind this... Well, I may just take it upon myself to _kill_ the son of a bitch..."


	34. Chapter 34

_The young woman had had enough..._

She was at her wit's end. She'd been in this God damned basement for definitely over a week by now, and it was driving her mad. It was more like a dungeon _than a basement! No one should have to live like this. Well, maybe the bastard who'd kidnapped, raped and tortured her, but no one else._

She stood up from her spot on the cold cement floor, determination inside of her despite her horrible ordeal. As she had decided a couple of days earlier, she was getting out of here... Somehow, someway, she was going to escape this hell...

She turned all around in a circle, once again examining her surroundings. The window out here was very high up and she would need that footstool to get up to it. Of course, she suspected it, much like the one in the bathroom, was covered by bars. Even so, she had to take this chance - if there were _bars on the window, she could still call for help to passersby outside._

There were bound to be some _people out there who would walk past the window - weren't there?_

She sincerely hoped _so..._

The asshole had come down awhile earlier to bring her lunch. She'd consumed the entire roast beef sandwich, determined to keep up her strength for the task at hand.

Lord knew, she would need _it..._

The wheels in her mind were working overtime as she crept closer to the cellar door. She strained to hear any sounds coming from upstairs, as she didn't want to act hastily and alert the madman. If he caught onto her, she was screwed, and as good as dead.

After a few minutes, the young woman suddenly realized the asshole was walking around - he was heading toward where she'd quickly discovered was the direction of the front door upstairs. She'd figured out in no time where it was because after he moved in that direction, she would hear a car's engine starting up shortly after. And then, sure enough, she could hear the motor of the vehicle. The bastard was going out!

She couldn't believe her luck...

She stood there, still as a stone as she listened to the car disappear, positive it was her captor leaving.

Her heart raced and pounded like a kettle drum as she thought about how long to take before she acted. Suppose the son of a bitch returned in only a few minutes? What would he do to her if he came downstairs to discover what she'd done? But then, she figured that if it were to happen, it couldn't be any worse than anything he'd already done to her...

...Unless, of course - he killed _her..._

Shuddering at the mere thought of such a horrifying thing, she decided right then and there to act - no more guessing games for her.

She practically ran to the small closet several feet away from where she stood, frantic as she located the footstool. She'd been taking it out but placing it back in the closet - in the exact same position and spot in which she'd found it - for days now. She dragged it out of the closet in a hurry, not bothering to close the door behind her, and brought it up to the window.

The woman hesitated for another moment or so as she surveyed her surroundings, her eyes scanning for something to use - for something with which to smash the window.

Damn it... For the life of her, she couldn't find anything strong or sturdy enought.

She stepped up on the stool, her mind made up - to hell _with it. Parting the drapes, she peered outside - sure enough, the window faced a street rather than the yard. Shockingly, it did_ not _have bars as she'd suspected. She steeled herself as she reached back with her left arm, then smashed the window with her fist. She let out a yelp of pain as shards of glass splintered into her flesh, but bit it back down, as she had more pressing matters at hand._

As tears of pain filled her eyes, she noticed a man approaching the area. Help was on the way.

"Help me!" she cried out, her voice hoarse after nine days in this Godforsaken place. "Please help me!"


	35. Chapter 35

Adam was silent and pensive as he sat in his locker room. His thoughts were consumed by a method of bringing to Amy's attention everything he had on his mind.

The door suddenly opened, and the redhead entered the room with Trish. The two divas were engaged in a coversation, but the subject matter was lost on Adam as he decided to suck it all in and talk to his fiancee.

The women looked up as the tall Canadian called Amy's name.

"Trish, would you mind...?" He gestured with a turn of his head, and the little blonde saw that something in his green eyes.

Trish nodded knowingly.

"Listen, I'll see you later..." she said, then turned to leave the couple alone.

Amy eyed the man she loved with anticipation.

"Okay, you've got me all to yourself, Blondie," she quipped with a grin. "Now, what's up?"

Adam held his breath, knowing there was no way to delicately ask the question. He took hold of the redhead's small hand, leading her to the sofa to sit before speaking.

"Amy... I have something very important to as you..."

The diva's face wore a half-smile as she absorbed his words, then she let out a small chuckle.

"Well, I _know_ you're not gonna ask me to marry you, 'cause you already did that..."

The tall blond man swallowed anxiously, then ran one hand through his long hair. This was not going to be an easy feat.

Amy grew a little more serious, cocking her head to one side as she regarded him. He looked so... concerned about something. Whatever was on his mind, it wasn't anything too humorous, or even the least bit pleasant.

"What is it?" she queried, reaching out with one hand to touch his shoulder.

Adam looked back up and into her hazel eyes. God, there was such guile in those orbs at the very moment, though he knew she'd seen a great deal of horror in her life. How he wished he could somehow go back in time and rescue her from that evil bastard - or prevent the asshole from ever having noticed her in the first place.

"Ames... Do you remember anything that happened to you four years ago?"

She arched a brow at the unexpected question.

"Yeah - I turned twenty-three years old."

"No..." Adam spoke, an unpleasant knot forming in his belly. "I mean later - in December." He remembered how Jeff had told him the awful things had befallen the redhead in December of that year. "Do you remember anything at all about December of 1998?"

The redhead's heart began to pound almost painfully, though she hadn't a clue as to why...

"N-no... I don't know what you mean," she replied, but her face had gone white as a sheet.

The Canadian couldn't help but wince. Damn it, he was certain that she'd recall _something_...

"You don't remember having shows at the Elk's Lodge? With ECW?"

Amy's eyes widened slightly. Wait, she _did_ remember a few shows they'd been putting on in Queens, New York in late 1998... But why was Adam suddenly interested in that?

"I do, now that you mention it."

The blond man was suddenly relieved. He even let out a sigh for it. Then, "Amy, do you remember anything else?"

She stared at him, suspicion coursing through her - though she wondered why _that_ emotion would overtake her. What was he getting at here?

She sat up, wrapping her arms around herself almost protectively.

"Why the interrogation, Adam?"

The Canadian flinched, not missing the sudden irritation in his fiancee's voice. Damn it, the last thing he wanted to do was upset her in any way.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said. "I don't mean it to be that way... It's just very important that you remember-"

Amy suddenly felt ill. She didn't know _why_, but she thought she might just be sick.

"I don't remember anything else about December of that year," she snapped, not sure why she was so upset with him... _or_ with the idea of remembering that particular time in her life.

"Ames," Adam began softly, gently grasping her right wrist, "something terrible happened to you back then, and someone's playing games with you _now_... and I'm trying-"

She yanked violently out of his loose grip, her head hammering harder than ever.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Amy jumped to her feet. "I don't know why you're doing this to me, Adam, but it's gonna stop _now_! Leave me alone!" she shouted.

"Wait-" The blond man rose to his feet and inched closer, intending to calm her down.

"No! If you don't stop it, I'm going to spend the night with Trish!"

"Amy..."

Then, before Adam could say or do anything else, the redhead made a run for the door, a sob escaping her as she fled...


	36. Chapter 36

_Nine days..._

_She had been enduring hell on earth for nine days... Nine days she'd been locked in the maniac's basement, nine days spent away from the open air and sun, nine days away from all of her friends and co-workers..._

_Her eyes had gotten so used to the dank dimness of that damp basement that they'd hurt once they'd rescued her and gotten her out of there._

_Now, she lay curled up on her right side in a tight fetal position on a hospital bed in St. John's Hospital in Elmhurst, New York - not far from the Elk's Lodge, from what she understood. An assorment of visitors kept coming to see her - ECW people. Usually, she was in a near-catatonic state, but when Rob Van Dam and Dawn Marie Psaltis, her two best friends in the company, were there, she was somewhat alert and responsive._

_The doctors and nurses talked about what they knew had happened to her. She squeezed her eyes shut and wished she were at least momentarily struck deaf when she heard the word 'rape.' The sick son of a bitch had done it only once, but the horrible memory of the attack would stay with her and haunt her for the rest of her days._

_She lay there on the bed, unseeing though her eyes were open, staring ahead at nothing. Nothing registered in her brain as the machine connecting an IV to her arm blipped monotonously. She wouldn't eat, didn't even move a muscle to accept a drink of water. She'd grown lifeless, basically a shell of what she'd once been._

_The young woman didn't flinch or even so much as blink an eye when her boss, Paul Heyman, came to visit. The portly man spoke to her, his voice calm and soothing. The only words her brain absorbed - the only ones it allowed her to actually catch were the ones he issued mere moments before he left her to her solitude:_ 'They're gonna catch the bastard who did this to you...'

_She didn't move a muscle other than her eyes, which blinked a few times. Her weary body remained in its curled up position. Because of that, she failed to notice the sly, evil smile that spread across Paul Heyman's face._

_A moment later, the heavyset man was gone. And a single tear escaped one of her eyes and ran down her cheek._

--

Chris Jericho wasn't sure what had woken him up from his sound sleep at first. After a few seconds, he became aware that the bed he was in seemed to be shaking slightly.

The blond man bolted up as he recalled that he was not the only person in his hotel bed... Amy - the redhead had come to the room he and Jay had been sharing. She'd been near tears, explaining that she and Adam had had a fight and asked if she could stay with them for the night.

Despite doubts that there'd really been a fight, Chris had immediately agreed to let her stay. What with all of the poor kid's troubles, he was not about to say no.

"Jeez, what's going on?" Jay asked, sitting up in his own bed a few feet away. He reached over for the lamp on the nearby nightstand, flipping it on and putting them in brightness.

Chris was desperately trying to calm the redhead down. She was thrashing a bit on his bed, small whimpers coming from her.

"Oh, no..." the Toronto native said, his blue eyes instantly adjusting to the light as concern flooded through him.

"Amy, come on..." Jericho said softly but firmly as he gripped the diva by the shoulders. She was lost in some horror-filled nightmare-memory, and he was desperate to get her out of it.

Jay pushed back his blanket to join his friend in his quest to awaken and calm down the distraught woman. The moment he laid a hand on Amy, the redhead began to thrash even more violently, and in fact caught Jay in the face with one hand in the throes.

"Ow!" the blond man cried, tears of pain stinging his eyes for a moment. "How the hell does Adam deal with this on a nightly basis?!"

Chris shot him a furious look.

"Damn it, Jay... How can you be so insensitive?"

"I didn't mean it that way!"

The two blond men attempted to calm Amy, who continued to thrash in the bed - until she suddenly bolted awake.

"Jesus..." Jericho breathed as he took in the redhead's fright, her eyes wide, breathing hard and heavy. In seconds, she seemed to be hyperventilating. "I'm gonna go get Adam! You stay here with her - I'll be right back with him!"


	37. Chapter 37

Amy sat on the edge of the hotel room bed, her arms wrapped around herself protectively. Her head was bowed, long red hair hanging down in a curtain around her head.

Jay sat at her side, the blond man feeling helpless as he gripped her arm gently. The redhead was finally fully awake, but that was no picnic, as she appeared to be in an almost catatonic state.

"Don't you worry, Ames - Chris ran to get Adam," he said helplessly. "Everything's gonna be fine." He only wished he could believe his own words.

"Where is she?!"

The sound of the tall blond man's voice suddenly permeating the room caused the diva and Jay alike to look up to see Adam, followed by Chris, entering and heading toward them.

Amy was no longer in her oddly detached state. Now that her fiance was here, she was very much alert again.

"A-Adam...?"

"I'm here, baby..." The tall Canadian sat beside her on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around her.

The redhead again burst into tears as she threw her arms around him, holding desperately to him. She sobbed as his hand went to her hair, stoking it gently.

"Shh... it's okay, Ames... It's all going to be okay."

She clung onto him with everything she had, eyes moist and red-rimmed as she gazed up into his face beseechingly.

"Make it stop! P-please, make it stop!" She fisted her hand around the T-shirt he'd worn to bed.

Adam hugged his fiancee to him, exchanging worried glances with Jay and then Chris. He and Amy were in serious trouble, and he knew there was only one way for things to get any better...

She was going to have to agree to see a therapist.

The tall blond man ran his hand over the side of her face, a wince coming to him at the extent of sadness he read in it. Her small hand still clutched at his T-shirt, until she collapsed against him again, more sobs coming as she pressed her face against his chest, her tears wetting the fabric of the shirt.

Chris and Jay stood by helplessly, the two blond men exchanging sad glances. This thing was only getting worse and worse.

--

_You have got to get me out of here!" John exclaimed into the phone as he stared into the eyes of the man on the other side of the glass._

He was in a maximum security prison in Upstate New York following his arrest and trial, where he'd been tried and convicted of first-degree kidnapping, dangerous imprisonment and rape.

He couldn't believe the betrayal and craftiness of that bitch... She'd actually reached that little window in his basement and smashed it to call for help. That had apparently happened not even twenty minutes after he'd gone out. A man had stopped to get help for her - and the next thing he knew, there was an ambulance, as well as a police cruiser on his front walk. The cops had promptly arrested him the moment he'd returned home.

As they were handcuffing him, he'd looked toward the ambulance. There she was, huddled under a blanket and sitting on the open back of the vehicle. Their eyes had ever so briefly met until she'd shut hers tightly and looked away. He thought he'd detected a shudder from her.

"Don't worry, Johnny... I've called my own personal attorney. We're gonna do our best to get you out of here."

"That's not good enough, Uncle Paul!"

"Well, that's the best we can hope for at this point." Paul Heyman shook his head, his beady brown eyes growing hard as he thought about the woman responsible for his nephew being here. "But don't you worry... I'll take care of everything..."


	38. Chapter 38

"Adam, I'm scared..."

Amy glanced down at her clasped hands, her gaze fixing on the beautiful diamond engagement ring on her left hand. She was practically shaking.

"I know, sweetie," the tall blond man said softly as he wrapped an arm around her. "But this is for the best, believe me."

They were the sole people in the waiting room at the psychologist's office. Stephanie had gladly given them the night off when Adam had explained their plight as briefly as he could manage.

Somehow, the blond man had finally managed to convince his fiancee to see a therapist. Her condition had been that he accompany her not only to the office, but also be there with her during the session.

The truth was, Adam was nervous as well. Hell, that was an understatement. He was terrified out of his wits. If Dr. Anderson put Amy under in any way, he very well might hear all the gruesome details of what had really happened to her back in late 1998. It was all he could do to keep from throwing up. But again, he knew this was for the best. The redhead needed to be able to remember, as that was the only way for her to deal with it and be able to move on with her life - with _their_ life.

The secretary quietly left the reception area and retreated to the doctor's office. A moment later, she emerged and offered them a smile.

"Dr. Anderson will see you now."

The redhead bit her lip nervously as she exchanged glances with the tall blond man. Adam gave her a nod of encouragement as they headed toward the office.

Dr. Sydney Anderson was a bit of a surprise to Adam, as somehow, he'd gotten the impression the therapist was a man. As it was, the psychologist was a young woman who appeared to be a few years older than him.

"Hello," the woman said. She offered them each a smile in turn. "Amy and Adam... Please, have a seat, make yourselves comfortable."

Twenty minutes into the session, Adam was rapt, literally on the edge of his seat as he listened. Amy was in a hypnotic trance, Anderson having regressed her back to December 1998.

"Amy, listen to me very carefully," the therapist said softly. "What happened on December 7th?"

"I participated in a live ECW show at the Elk's Lodge," the redhead replied calmly. "Afterward, I go back to the hotel with Dawn Marie and Lance."

"A dead end," the blond man spoke, mostly to himself.

"What about December 8th? What happened _that_ night?" Dr. Anderson inquired.

"We had another show at Elk's Lodge..." the diva answered. "It was a good one. I left by myself instead of waiting for my friends." Her brow furrowed. "I'm walking up a block, and it's so windy and cold... should have brought a scarf..."

Adam frowned as he gazed at her. She was about to reveal some vital detail, he knew it.

"Someone is following me..." she suddenly said, her voice quavering slightly.

"Who is he, Amy? Do you know him?"

"I don't... I don't know him," the redhead replied, her eyes squeezed shut.

The Canadian reached over tentatively as though to touch the woman. However, the moment he did so, she recoiled, as though in horror.

"He's got me! He's grabbed me!"

"Oh, my God..." Adam breathed. His entire body felt as though he'd been frozen in the sense that he'd been shut away in a meat locker.

"No! Someone _help_ me!" Amy cried, her voice half-choked as she struggled in her chair. "He's throwing me into his car!"

"All right... Amy, listen to me," Dr. Anderson said as she jotted some notes down on the legal pad spread out on her desk. "It is now a few days later - December 13th. Where are you?"

"In his basement - the same place I've been for six days! I want out of here!" she wailed miserably. "He... he's coming again... No! He's going to rape me again - why won't someone come to help me?"

"Christ..." Adam spat, and all of a sudden, his body felt hot. He rubbed a hand over his face, a feeling of nausea gripping him. So, it was true - Amy _had_ been raped... He thought he was going to be sick.

"Amy, look at his face. Does it look familar? Have you ever seen this person before?"

The redhead nodded.

"I've seen him before... At the live shows - at Elk's Lodge. I think he knows Paul E..."

Adam's head shot up. _Paul E_? Good God, she meant Paul Heyman... Shit... Somehow, Heyman had something to do with this - he'd stake his life on it. He didn't know _how_ the slimy former owner of ECW tied into it - but damn it, he intended to find out.


	39. Chapter 39

Amy was visibly shaken as they exited the doctor's office. She clung to Adam's hand, her face pale and drawn as she recalled her session.

She finally remembered.

All she wanted to do was get out of here, go home and crawl under the covers in their bed. She wanted to forget, even if only temporarily. Yet, the blond man seemed reluctant to leave the place where she'd finally gotten to remember...

She looked up at him questioningly.

"Adam...?"

"Wait here," he said evenly.

The redhead's eyes grew slightly wide.

"Where are you going?"

"To the men's room. Stay right here, all right?"

She nodded, and Adam quickly turned and hurried off down the short hall to the restroom.

Once inside, the blond man stood over the tiny sink, examining his expression as he checked his reflection in the small mirror. What he saw was a relatively calm exterior, yet inside was a 180 degree difference. He thought he was going to be sick...

Adam whirled around and rushed into one of the two stalls. Once inside, he bent over and violently purged his stomach of all its contents.

"Oh, God..." the Canadian moaned. It went on and on until he felt as though he had nothing left to give and was empty. That was, he felt empty and hollow inside.

He couldn't believe it. Although he known instinctively over the last while that something sinister had indeed happened to Amy, he had been hoping at the same time that it wasn't true.

But now, there was no going back, no denying it. The redhead had been abducted, held captive in some sicko creep's basement for nine day and had been raped.

He retched so hard that tears formed in his eyes and dripped down onto his cheeks. As he finished, nothing left in his stomach, he flushed the toilet and wiped at the tears. Then, returning to the sink, the tall blond man rinsed out his mouth and splashed cold water on his face.

He couldn't afford to fall to pieces in front of Amy. He had to be strong for her. Damn it, he wanted and needed to be strong for her.

Finally composed enough to return out there, Adam grabbed a paper towel to dry off. Then, determined to continue being the pillar of strength he'd always been for the redhead, he left the restroom to return to her.

The diva was surprisingly calm, seated cross-legged in the waiting room, flipping through a magazine. She looked up as his tall shadow suddenly fell over her.

"Ready?"

She nodded and put the magazine down, then rose to depart with him. Not lost on him was the way she gripped his hand - tightly, as though she were terrified of losing her hold on him.

The blond man turned to gaze at her as they walked. He had no intention of letting go of her hand, or of letting her slip away physically, emotionally or psychologically. God, how he cherished this woman.

As they reached their rental car, he released Amy's hand, but he hesitated to unlock the doors. Instead, he pulled her into his arms, flush against his chest. Instantly, her arms went up and around his neck as she clung to him.

They clung to each other for a long time before finally going into the car.


	40. Chapter 40

Jeff strode down the hotel hallway, his mind consumed with worry for his friends. He'd known Adam had finally taken Amy to see a therapist. He couldn't imagine how difficult things had been during the session.

The young man was just passing by the lobby on his way to the cafe for a snack when he caught sight of Trish. The little blonde was standing near a large window across the way, staring outside at the parking lot and back entrance area. Her body language looked tired, maybe even defeated. Her slender shoulders sank as she released a sigh.

Jeff didn't even have to think about it, and so, he started making his way over to her.

"Trish?"

The tiny Canadian woman jumped and gasped, so startled by the voice and the gentle hands that had suddenly touched her shoulders. She turned around, relaxing visibly as she realized it was only Jeff. Instantly, her body language relaxed somewhat, her lovely brown eyes fluttering closed for a beat as she took a deep breath and exhaled.

"Jeff... You scared me."

"Aww, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said softly. She looked so nervous and so vulnerable and tender, he just wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her for all she was worth. He could tell exactly what was troubling her as well, as Trish Stratus had normally always been a happy, upbeat woman. She was doing the exact same thing he'd been doing all day long - worrying herself sick over Amy.

"It's okay... I'm just a little jumpy today," the blonde spoke. She glanced around the lobby furtively, as though ensuring there were no eyes or ears prying or spying on them. "I... Jeff, I've been getting the creeps lately."

The young man nodded in understanding.

"It's understandable," he said softly. "Your close friend is going through a really difficult time with something terrible from her past, and-"

"No, no... It... it's not only that," she whispered. "That creep Heyman has been sort of... well, _following_ me at times." She shifted her bronze eyes around the area again, blinking rapidly as she did so.

"Is he stalking you, Trish?" Jeff asked firmly, his tone strong and tinged with anger. If that fat, balding loser did a thing to hurt her...

"Yeah, I... I guess you can say that," the blonde woman replied with a short nod. She raised her gaze and fixed it on the young rainbow-haired man's green eyes. "But he hasn't ever done anything more than that. Just follow and spy on me." She swallowed hard.

Jeff's right hand inflexively clenched into a fist at the thought of Paul Heyman bothering this woman. As far as he was concerned, he didn't give a shit whether the man was merely following and watching her, or if he was going all out and grabbing and attacking her. So far, from what he'd seen and heard in the past few weeks, that asshole had gone out of his way to harass Trish - and he didn't like it one bit.

"How about I go dig up that scum and beat some sense into him?" the man growled as he turned slightly to look over his shoulder, surveying the lobby. It would be just his luck if Heyman just so happened to be 'passing through' right at that moment. He wouldn't blink an eye to think about hitting the guy in his fat, ugly face.

"No, Jeff... it's okay. Really, it is," Trish assured him, grabbing his hand and giving it a little squeeze. She reached up with one hand when he turned back toward her, her slender, soft fingers pressing gently into his cheek. "I'll be okay. I can handle Heyman."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice reduced to a near whisper as he fixed his catlike eyes on her pretty face. He was distinctly aware of the blonde's tiny hand against his face, and it wasn't an unpleasant sensation at all.

Trish nodded, her expression softening as she gazed up into his beautiful eyes. He was so sweet, wanting to go seek out the creep and beat him senseless for her. It touched her heart that he could be so very protective of her.

"No one has ever been so sweet to me before," she whispered, a small smile touching her lips as she inched slightly closer to him. Her lips parted as she craned her neck to better meet him, and Jeff smiled sweetly as he edged closer to her as well, his arms encircling her waist.

Trish felt as though she were melting as the colorful-headed man held her against him, his lips warm and soft as they lowered onto hers. The feel of his moist, warm tongue tangling with hers inside her mouth was heavenly, like nothing she'd ever experienced before. A myriad of emotions swirled through her mind as the kiss went on and on, and she raised her hands to tangle them into his rainbow hair.

--

Adam and Amy entered the hotel hand-in-hand, the redhead silent as she worried about her fiance. The tall blond man had been too quiet himself the entire ride back here after her appointment. She dreaded what could be going through his mind after the session and all that had been drawn out of her.

Her troubles were momentarily forgotten as they made a right turn in the building, her gaze sweeping over to the couple standing just before a window. They were locked in a passionate kiss, and a small smile tugged on her lips as she realized it was Jeff and Trish.

"Well, look at this," Adam said softly, amusement in his voice as he spoke to the redhead.

"Yeah... should we...?" She gestured toward them as they neared.

"Nah... Let's just leave them alone - to their little moment," the blond man said, a sly smile on his face. And so, they continued on their way, past their friends to their room.


	41. Chapter 41

Amy felt absolutely numb. She didn't know what to think or feel anymore - aside from horror, and, despite that, a strangely calm acceptance.

There was no denying it any longer. Angelica, the young woman of whom she'd been dreaming for so long was _her_... Not a figment of her imagination, not even another woman she somehow shared some eerie psychic connection with... Angelica was _her_!

She sat stone-still on the edge of the hotel bed, her breathing surprisingly calm. She remembered everything from the session and that the doctor had even remarked that it was highly unusual for a patient to recall everything so clearly their first visit.

"Ames..." Adam knelt before her on the floor, his hands gripping hers. His sharply handsome face wore a look of great concern. He was probably afraid she'd been suddenly struck catatonic. But she wasn't, and, slowly, calmly, she shifted her eyes so that they met his. "... I need to show you something," he went on. His large hands felt so warm. They gave her comfort in spite of the unimaginable things she now knew she had endured nearly four years earlier. This man always made her feel safe... If she didn't have him... No, she didn't want to consider that option. Although... what was going through his head now? Maybe he would decide he didn't want anything to do with her. Why would he want to marry a woman who'd been raped - soiled, _defiled_ - as she had been?

"Ames?" the blond man repeated again. He was beginning to get damn scared. She'd looked into his eyes when he'd spoken her nickname the first time, but she hadn't really responded, and then she'd sort of spaced out - not that he could blame her, given everything they'd found out today.

She stared blankly into his eyes, causing a sick feeling to hit the pit of his stomach. Somehow, he had to make her see what was being done in recent weeks - that someone was playing a sick game to set her off - and he had to find out who was behind it.

The redhead blinked, her voice so soft as it issued forth, he had to lean closer to even hear her.

"_I'm_ Angelica... It was _me_!"

Adam's heart broke. In fact, it downright felt as though it were shattering in about fifty-million tiny pieces.

"It was _me_," Amy repeated, a strange, hollow inflection in her tone. "_I_ was held prisoner in that basement for nine days... _I _was raped."

The tall blond man winced, swallowing hard. Amy was saying these things, though not showing a whole lot of emotion in the process. It was damn heartbreaking, not to mention even a bit... scary.

"I have to show you something," he repeated after a moment. He reached into his bag near the bed and pulled out the object he'd found under their hotel bed a couple of weeks earlier - the tape recorder. He held it up to her, making sure she actually saw it. "I found this," he went on, "under our bed at one of the hotels recently." He shook his head. "Ames, someone is playing a sick game, pretending to be... that bastard who... who..." He couldn't bring himself to say it.

Amy simply stared at the audio device, unblinking. Oddly, she showed no signs of fear, in vast contrast to her last reaction to it.

"Someone planted this thing," Adam elaborated further. "It looks like someone's taking pleasure in tormenting you - and trying to drive you insane..."


	42. Chapter 42

_January 15, 1999_

_Pain... She felt such intense pain, unlike any she had ever felt in her entire life. It gripped her in ironlike clutches, hitting her so very hard that she saw stars behind her tightly squeezed shut eyes._

_Amy doubled over, her vision swimming as she opened her eyes again. Her breath was nearly lost at the intensity of the pain in her lower abdomen. She felt as though she were dying. But what was wrong with her?_

_She sat up in her bed, her teeth clenched, brow furrowed in agony. Thank goodness Paul E. had let her have the last month off to recover from her horrible ordeal in that maniac's basement. It was just her good luck she had a boss who was beyond understanding and sympathetic._

_"Ugh..." she moaned. She clutched her stomach, wondering what in hell was wrong with her. The only thing she could compare this feeling to was the worst menstrual cramps she'd ever experienced in her life. Come to think of it, she hadn't had her time of the month in awhile... In fact, it had been close to two months since she had!_

'Oh, God!' _she thought, her heart nearly stopping. To tell the truth, she hadn't really given much thought to her period in awhile. That was due to the fact that so many other things had been on her mind, but could she really be_ blamed _for that? She'd gone through a hellish time in the not so distant past!_

_Amy rose weakly from her bed, the pain in her stomach growing far worse as she stood up. She reached out and clutched onto the edge of the nearby dresser, her free arm wound around her middle. She felt as though she were going to be sick. She had to get to the bathroom, purge her stomach of its contents, as the pain was so bad, she thought she was going to throw up._

_The young woman nearly collapsed as she hobbled her way into her small nearby bathroom. The pain in her lower abdomen was only getting worse, and it terrified her. She doubled over, leaning on the sink as she entered the room, her gaze flying up to her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked positively haunted._

_She cried out and fell to the floor, her body curling in on itself. The pain was so great, tears began to leak from her eyes. And then, she glanced down her body, and noticed it..._

_... The blood._

_"No!" The single shouted word was out of sheer horror of what she suddenly realized was happening to her - she was unmistakably having a miscarriage... And she didn't have a boyfriend, either. Dear God, that sick, psychotic son of a bitch had impregnated her when he'd raped her!_

She bolted up out of the bed, her breath rushing out of her in a loud gasp. A small yelp escaped her as the dream-memory remained with her. She felt as though she were going to pass out, become sick.

"No... No!"

Adam instantly bolted awake, his gaze flying to the distraught redhead. Frowning, he reached out to her, guessing she'd had another nightmare. It was a vast contrast to the almost indifference she'd shown the previous day, when they'd returned from her therapy session.

"Amy?"

The redhead buried her face in her hands, now sobbing harshly. Her body shook almost uncontrollably as she cried and cried.

"Sweetheart, talk to me... please," the blond man pleaded, his heart breaking at the sound of her sobs. He gathered her in his arms, pulling her flush against him. One of his hands held her head down to his chest while the other gently stroked her mussed hair. "You're safe, baby - I _swear_ it."

Amy pressed her face to his bare, muscular chest, as though trying to hide. Her tears wouldn't stop as the horror kept her in its grasp. No, it _couldn't_ be! But she _knew_ it was true... Oh, God!

"The... the baby," she moaned miserably.

Adam arched a brow as he looked down at her, her face still burrowed against his chest. What was she trying to say? Her voice was muffled in her current position.

"What was that, honey?"

She raised her head, meeting his eyes sorrowfully, the tears still falling down her cheeks. She had to tell him.

"When... when the doctor said there was a reason I had the... ec-ectopic pregnancy..."

The blond man frowned again. What was she getting at here?

"What about it?" he questioned. For some reason, his heart began to hammer uncontrollably in his chest, and he felt somewhat sick.

"I was pregnant once before," she moaned. She shook her head, horrified to no end. "I-I blocked it, Adam... When I was raped, I... oh, God!" She lowered her head and sobbed harshly for a full moment, the blond man's blood feeling as though it had frozen through. Then, "I didn't know it, and I had a miscarriage. I... I just remembered it in my sleep now."

"Oh, God... Ames..." Adam felt his heart being wrenched right through his body, and he was at a sudden loss for words. He pulled her against him again, his own tears intermingling with hers as they held tightly to one another.


	43. Chapter 43

The man stood stony-faced despite the unimaginable sorrow consuming him.

He stood there with his back straight, his head bowed, as he looked down and issued a silent prayer in his head.

"Johnny... It's been awhile," Paul Heyman said in a soft voice. "And I apologize for not coming to see you as much as I used to."

No answer.

Heyman sighed as he tried his best to remain composed.

"I know it's no excuse, but I've been quite busy with my career. Since ECW folded under, I've found a new home in the WWE." He paused for a moment, swallowing hard as he kept his eyes focused on the target ahead of him.

"I've carved my own little niche there." Paul chuckled. "It's ironic, isn't it? The very company that put my own out of business..."

There was still no response. Only dead silence followed his speech.

"A-anyway," the fat, balding man went on, "I wanted to come see you today, Johnny. I wanted to let you know that I never forgot what she did to you." A scowl crossed Heyman's countenance. "And I never _will_ forget - this I promise to you, Johnny. You're my nephew, and damn it, I love you. You always looked out for me, so I've been continuing to look out for you." He raised one fat, meaty fist into the warm, sunny air and pursed his lips together. "She won't get away with it. This is my vow to you."

The day remained as still and calm as it had been before Paul had arrived here.

"Amy Dumas is going to suffer... And she _has_ been suffering!" Heyman exclaimed in an almost jubilant fashion. "I've been seeing to it, Johnny!" he exclaimed, his hands coming up before his face, hands clenching with intensity. The chubby man chuckled. "You would love what I did with my tape recorder," he continued. "I always _could_ do a terrific verbal impression of my favorite nephew."

Silence resumed and was his response.

Paul sighed sadly as he fought back tears he suddenly felt threatening. Then, ignoring them for the time being, he spoke again.

"Justice will be done, Johnny... I swear it. If it's the last thing I do, I'll see to it myself that justice _will _be served!" Fierce anger surged through him at the memory... the memory of what had happened to his nephew. Johnny had been tried and convicted of rape and false imprisonment, not the mention cruel and unusual punishment. He'd received a very hefty sentence subsequently, but it had been far more severe than it seemed. John Heyman's fate had been of the gravest, utmost severity.

Heyman tried desperately to push those dire thoughts from his head, instead concentrating on the redhead he despised so greatly.

"If all goes according to plan, Amy Dumas will go insane within a month," he said, a slow, sadistic smile spreading across his fat face. "She's already been showing some definite signs."

Paul sighed as he kept his gaze fixed on the gray marble headstone. He wished Johnny could answer him, that he could be given some kind of sign that his nephew could hear him. But there was none, just as there had been none ever since that horrible night just over three years earlier - when John Heyman had committed suicide in his prison cell by hanging...


	44. Chapter 44

Trish Stratus was horrified as she walked into the hotel room to see her friend in such a state.

Amy was so listless, her eyes downcast and haunted. She was barely speaking at all, and she looked as though she hadn't slept much the previous night.

It broke the little blonde's heart. Things certainly hadn't been great lately, but for the last week or so, the redhead had seemed pretty okay. But now... Now was a completely different story.

"Amy," Trish said softly, her voice soothing, "please talk to me." She winced at the memory of her friend's facial expression from when Adam had left a bit earlier. The tall blond man had called her over to keep an eye on her fiancee, keep her company while he attented to some important business. She didn't quite know what that 'important business' was, but when Adam left, Amy had looked so crestfallen. It broke the blonde's heart.

"Amy..." Trish wished Jeff were here. The colorful-haired man was so comforting, and somehow, she sensed he would be able to get the redhead out of her current funk - at least temporarily.

The other woman finally seemed to respond, shuddering under Trish's light touch. Slowly, Amy turned her head to face her close friend. Her hazel eyes were once again so very haunted, and Trish thought she couild break down at that look.

"It's worse than we thought," the redhead said as she almost stared right through the other woman. "It's _way_ worse, Trish!"

The Canadian diva's brown eyes widened. Dear God, what was Amy talking about? If there were any new details pertaining to what had happened to Amy nearly four years earlier - and Trish had a sneaking, sinking suspicion that this was indeed the case - she didn't know a thing about them. Adam hadn't divulged anything to her when he'd gone out.

"What?" she asked. "Honey, what do you mean?" Her hand rose to the distraught woman's hair.

"Th-there was a _baby_!" Amy exclaimed, terror gripping her in its painful clutches.

Trish frowned as she gazed into the teary hazel orbs.

"Oh, Amy... The baby," she crooned. "I know... I know, it's so awful. But don't-"

"No!" Amy said vehemently, shaking her head. Her hazel eyes went slightly wild as she eyed her friend. "Not _that_ baby..." She choked up, a sob released as she went on. "I had a... a miscarriage in early 1999."

Trish's eyes widened as she gasped with recognition.

"Oh, my God... Amy, you don't... You mean...?" She was able to read the answer in her unfinished question in the redhead's haunted eyes. Sweet Jesus... She reached for the other woman, although she knew nothing she could do would offer enough comfort.

Just then, Adam re-entered the hotel room. The two women looked up abruptly as he stepped inside, his sharply handsome face determined. He also seemed angry - but Trish could hardly blame him if he knew about Amy's horrible past - especially this most recent news. "Someone is behind all of this," the tall blond declared. He ran a hand through his long hair and held it there for a moment as he tightly closed his eyes and exhaled a breath. "Someone is playing sick games," he said between clenched teeth. He was furious enough to punch a hole in the wall, but he restrained himself due to not wanting to terrify the two divas.

Amy gazed up at him, her haunted hazel eyes filled with question marks.

"It's true, Amy," Adam went on. "Because, from what Jeff told me, this John person is dead."

Trish's eyes widened. Her heart began to pound in triple time as well as a strange nagging hit her - but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.


	45. Chapter 45

Trish tried to remain as quiet as possible as she made her way back to her own hotel room. She'd left shortly after Adam's return and declaration. She only hoped Amy would finally get some peace tonight.

The nagging sensation had not left her. Somehow, when Adam had told them that someone was playing games and that the creep who'd kidnapped and raped Amy was dead, something had really bothered her. It was somewhere back in the recesses of her mind, but the little blonde felt as though she should remember something.

But _what_?

She thought of Jeff. Maybe the rainbow-haired man could help her. She thought it strangely ironic - Amy had been having horrid nightmares, ones she'd repressed. And meanwhile, she was now having difficulty trying to recall something she knew was vitally important in all of this.

She stopped in her tracks, thinking furiously. Jeff... She had to get to him. He would have answers - and he would comfort her as well. A surge of warmth spread through her body as she thought about it, about the younger Hardy Boy.

The little blonde began to resume her steps, making her way toward the stairwell. Jeff's hotel room was two flights up.

Trish began the small journey, her mind not at all focused on the fact that, at this ungodly hour of the night, not a soul was around and she was alone here.

She had just made it to the next flight when a presence suddenly startled her. She let out a small gasp, then relaxed but grew angry as she realized who it was.

"Hello there, Trish..."

The little blonde scowled. The portly man was so close to her in the meager confines of the stairwell that she could smell and feel his reeking breath.

"What the hell do you want, Paul?" she hissed. She couldn't help but wonder what in the world Paul Heyman would be doing up now, much less right here, just where she happened to be. It was somewhat unnerving. It seemed almost as though the man had planned this, timed it perfectly.

Heyman laughed, the sound thoroughly grating on Trish's nerves. The sound of it echoed hollowly throughout the area, sending a chill up the diva's spine.

Paul reached out, bracing one hand against the wall, nearly pinning Trish against it. He felt a charge at the power he felt over making the young woman squirm. She backed even more against the wall, seemingly wanting it to open up and swallow her. She was _scared_ of him... It made him feel good when, up until fairly recently, the bitch had all but pretty much laughed at him, _mocked_ him.

"Get away from me!"

"No," Heyman said, shaking his head. He offered her a crooked smile. "You answer me something..." Before Trish could recoil anymore, he reached out and grasped her chin - hard. The blonde struggled against his touch, a soft mewling sound escaping her.

"Your bitch friend Amy... Has she gone completely bonkers yet?"

The fear-filled chocolate-brown eyes widened at his words.

Oh, yes... He was enjoying this power he held over the woman. Interesting reaction to his question.

"Because," he continued, "she _is_ going to pay for all the hell she's caused."

"Wh-what?" Trish squirmed some more, both her hands coming up to claw at his hand that was still gripping her chin. She didn't want to get away just yet - not until he revealed more.

"The bitch is gonna pay for what she did to him," Paul snarled, not at all caring about Trish's long nails raking at the flesh of his hand.

"Who?" she asked in a frantic voice. She knew he meant that John character, but who the hell had the man been to Paul Heyman? What possible relationship could there have been between them?

Paul moved his face close to Trish's again, his beady eyes wide.

"Johnny..." the man spat. "... Johnny Heyman."

The little blonde blinked, confusion overtaking her. She winced, as his hold on her chin was beginning to hurt. Who the hell _was_ this Johnny Heyman, anyway?

Trish finally was free as, a moment later, Paul finally released her. In a haste, she scurried away, her chin aching as she let out a yelp and hurried up the staircase. She nearly tripped as she heard Heyman's maniacal laughter trailing up to her ears - but she managed to keep her footing and raced the rest of the way to her destination.

"Jeff... Jeff!" Trish nearly collapsed against the young man when he opened the door.

"Trish... What's wrong, baby?" the Hardy asked with a frown. Clearly, something was very wrong. "Get in here," he said softly. Gently, he ushered her inside, shutting and locking the door behind her.


	46. Chapter 46

Jeff did his best to compose Trish. Dear lord, she was shaking ever so slightly, not to mention, she appeared to be on the verge of tears. Something had definitely spooked her.

The young man grabbed hold of the blonde woman's hands, finding them eerily ice cold.

"Sweetheart, what is it? What happened?" He also wondered why on earth she'd been up and wandering around the hotel at this late hour.

Trish peered up into his green eyes sorrowfully, the traces of fear clear within her brown orbs.

"It's Heyman..." she said in a slightly shaky voice. "... _He's_ the one!"

"The one what?" Jeff questioned frantically. What was she talking about? But if that slimy Paul Heyman had done something - _anything_ - to hurt Trish, well then the man was going to have to answer to _him_.

"He... he cornered me in the stairwell," the little blonde revealed. "Jeff, that guy John who kidnapped and raped Amy... He was Paul Heyman's _nephew_!"

--

Adam sat up restlessly on the chair halfway across the room. He was still furious, his mind working overtime about the entire situation.

Thank God Amy was asleep. And, from the looks of it, she was _peacefully_ asleep. He'd been so reluctant to leave the bed since he'd returned here, fearful she would awaken and cry out for him. What a horrible ordeal this had been - and still was.

The tall blond man himself was exhausted. His eyes felt all grainy and red, but when he tried to fall back asleep, it just wouldn't happen. He was far too wound up, too sick with worry over his fiancee. She truly did seem closer and closer to a mental breakdown - all at the hands of someone playing a sick game...

... But _who_? He honestly didn't know.

However, when - not _if_, because the Canadian knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was only a matter of time - he found out who was responsible, that person would pay dearly. He would make damn sure of that. No one would get away with fucking with the mind of the woman he loved.

The redhead suddenly stirred in the bed across the room, a soft moan escaping her as she shifted. Adam's heart thudded quickly in his chest, as though threatening to break free of its confines. He rose and stepped closer, gazing down at her with great concern. God, he loved her. And it killed him to see her so troubled and tormented. She didn't deserve it.

The rapid beat of his heart calmed somewhat as he realized she seemed to be okay. She was quickly settling again, and for that he was vastly relieved.

Adam made the last few steps of the way over to the bed, his heart in his eyes as he knelt down by the bedside and gazed at the woman who would soon become his wife.

She was so precious to him. He reached out tentatively with his right hand, wanting to touch the silky smoothness of her skin but afraid of waking her. Finally, he went ahead with it, the backs of his long fingers gently skimming her cheeks.

He found himself suddenly choked up... He couldn't help it when he thought of all she had endured.

All of a sudden, Adam heard a strange buzzing sound. He glanced around for a beat, disoriented as he wondered as to the source of the sound. And then, he realized it was his cell phone, which he had on vibrate with the ringer off. Hastily, he reached up for it, flipped it open and said hello as quietly as he could manage.

"Adam, it's Jeff... Trish and I need to speak to you right away..."


	47. Chapter 47

Adam tore at his hair, the rage surging through him greater than perhaps any he'd ever known.

"_Heyman_ is behind all of this?!" he shouted. It was a miracle he hadn't disturbed and awakened Amy, but the redhead was in a deep slumber after having taken a sleeping pill earlier in the night.

"I believe so," Trish said firmly. It had taken awhile, but ever since she and Jeff had come here to tell Adam what they now suspected, she'd stopped shaking. "I really believe he's responsible."

"And the guy who grabbed Amy was his nephew? _Fuck_!"

"Yeah," Jeff said somberly. "Sorry, man."

"Oh, don't be," the tall blond man snapped. "I'm glad you both came here to tell me this. And the only one who's gonna be 'sorry' is that fat son of a bitch Heyman." He clenched his hands into fists as he envisioned getting them on Paul Heyman. He would wring the bastard's neck, punch his lights out, kick the shit out of him... and a whole lot more. Paul Heyman's nephew had kidnapped and raped Amy... There was no way Paul couldn't have known. In fact, he must have even _allowed_ John Heyman to prey on the young woman. And the asshole was certainly the one who'd been tormenting Amy over the past few months, leaving things that would cause flashbacks. Adam recalled the ski mask on Amy's birthday, the empty plate and fork in his locker room. And the tape recorder he'd found under their bed at one of the hotels - this John bastard had been Paul's nephew. There could have been a close proximity between the timber of their voices. Heyman could have easily impersonated his own flesh and blood's voice.

"You two stay here with Amy," the blond man suddenly said. He spun on his heel and bent over to rummage quickly through his suitcase, instantly coming up with the offending tape recorder. The urge to go after Paul Heyman right now hit him, and hard.

"Adam, what are you-"

Jeff silenced Trish with a touch of the hand. The little blonde cast him a look of concern as their friend then fled from the hotel room.

Trish exchanged horrified glances with Jeff. She didn't have to verbalize what she was thinking as the young man perfectly read her mind.

"Paul Heyman is a dead man."

He raced down the hotel stairway, all he saw being red. He wanted - no, _needed_ - to get his hand on that greasy slimeball.

Adam's eyes were wide and wild as he strode down the hall on the next floor. He'd seen the bastard enter his hotel room at some point earlier in the night. He knew which room Heyman was in.

The tall, furious blond man finally reached the room for which he was searching. He inhaled a breath sharply, pacing himself. If he gave into his instincts and pounded on the door violently, he would get nowhere. Instead, he kept calm as he raised a hand and knocked.

That did the trick. In a minute, the door opened, and that was when Adam made his move. Letting out a growl, the tape recorder falling to the carpeted floor, he lunged at Heyman. He grabbed the fat man and hurled him to the floor, and, in a flash, the blond man was on the bastard, pummeling him with his fists.

"So, it was your worm food _nephew_, was it?!" Adam shouted, raising the man up to his feet. "_He's_ the one?! And _you're_ the one who's been fucking with her mind all these few months?!" He drove a fist into Heyman's portly stomach.


	48. Chapter 48

Adam jerked Heyman upward, actually feeling sick at what he'd done. The fat man coughed and sputtered as he tried to catch his breath. And while the tall blond man felt absolutely no remorse for beating the guy up, it sickened him that he'd held Heyman's head down under the water in the bathtub. As far as he was concerned, _no one_ should have to endure that kind of torment - not even Paul Heyman. But he'd recalled what Amy had told him about John doing that to 'Angelica,' and he'd just about snapped.

Adam hefted the portly bastard to his feet, shut off the water in the tub, and then steered Paul back toward the main room in the hotel.

"We're going for a little walk," he muttered into the asshole's ear. "And you're gonna do some confessing."

"Wh-wha...?" Heyman tried to whirl around to look up into the blond man's face, but he couldn't manage it as the Canadian held him almost by the scruff of his neck, forcing him brisky toward the door. Opening it roughly, the blond man shoved him ahead, his grip extra tight so as to ensure he couldn't get away.

"You're telling Amy everything... Admitting the whole truth about John Heyman, and everything you're responsible for."

The other man didn't speak a response, but he grunted as the blond man gave him a shove as he held onto him with the other hand.

This was horrible... All he'd done was carry out justice. Justice had to be served after the horrible fate poor Johnny had received. Hatred churned in Paul's gut. This was all Amy Dumas' fault - _all_ of it! He sincerely hoped the bitch would rot in hell. Maybe someday, she _would_.

"Move!" Adam barked, kicking at Heyman's ankle from behind, as though giving him a slight prod ahead.

Paul chanced a quick glance up over his left shoulder at the younger, taller and very angry man. He could plainly see the Canadian wasn't fooling with him. He swallowed hard, dismayed to realize there was an uncomfortable lump in his throat, and continued.

"What are you gonna do to me?"

The blond man ushered him directly toward a room, stopping before the door. As he fished into his pocket for his cardkey, he spoke.

"Nothing you're gonna like if you don't cooperate." Adam scowled down at the slug of a man as he swiped the card through the door, then pushed forward.

Three heads instantly snapped up to attention, three pairs of eyes fixing on them. None of their owners seemed capable of speaking as they appeared shocked.

Adam's gaze found Amy's, the redhead now awake, although still in the bed, the blanket over her sitting form. She cocked her head as she regarded them with confusion.

He gave Paul a shove in the back.

"Go on... Speak!" he demanded. "Tell her everything."

Trish and Jeff exchanged glances, silently communicating. A quick look her way told Adam that the blonde was fearful.

"Adam?" The redhead spoke instead of the person he wanted to speak. "What's this all about?"

"Heyman's gonna tell you about that," he growled, poking the man again. He glared down at Paul, who chanced another glance over his shoulder and cringed.

After a beat, the fat man's demeanor changed drastically. In a matter of seconds, he seemed to go from fear to disdain and hate.

"I should have just killed you," he spat.

Amy's eyes widened at the words, her heart suddenly pounding impossibly fast.

"It's your fault... It's all _your_ fault that my nephew is dead! You pitiful little bitch!"

The tall blond man tugged on Heyman, as he still held him by the back of the neck and one arm. Everyone else was dead silent as he continued.

"If it weren't for _you_, Amy Dumas-" Paul spoke her name as though it were poison leaving his lips. "- Johnny would be alive today!"

"J-Johnny?" The diva's hazel eyes shifted to Adam's and were now filled with terror.

"My nephew!" Heyman screamed. "I never should've let him get his hands on you..." He shook his head, emotions suddenly getting the better of him. He reached up with one hand to wipe at his brow, head down.

That bastard... Adam could feel his pulse pounding wildly as he listened. Heyman had actually _enabled_ his nephew to get to Amy!

"... But he was so focused... so... _fascinated_ by you. He wanted you and thought you should be his."

"So, you arranged it so that he could kidnap her and hold her prisoner - and do whatever he liked to her," Jeff said in a strangely even voice. He shook his head at the madness of it all.

"Call it what you will," Paul replied.

"It's called kidnapping and rape, you asshole," the tall, angry blond man snapped. His green eyes shifted back to his fiancee, as she began to speak.

"Paul... H-he was your..." Tears filled the redhead's eyes at the horror and betrayal she felt. "You _allowed_ it to happen...?"

"Anything for Johnny," Heyman answered, his words increasing Adam's ire to even more epic proportions. "He was a good boy."

Trish Stratus blinked back tears of her own, knowing action had to be taken. Slowly, she moved over to the cell phone laying at Amy's bedside and dialed 911.


	49. Chapter 49

**_A/N: Well, this is it, the last chapter of this story. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and/or review it! It was an emotional but wonderful thing to write this fic._**

_Six Months Later_

Adam smiled softly as he kept his gaze glued on her. He could see her smiling back through the delicate, sheer veil she wore, her lovely hazel eyes shining with emotion.

Because Amy's father had been estranged from the rest of her family since she'd been a teenager, Jeff was doing the honors to give her away. And to Adam, the redhead had never looked more beautiful or happy.

It was their wedding day, and the tall blond man still had difficulty believing it was really happening now. Their engagement had ended up being a short one, as after the truth had come out fully, Amy had declared she wanted to marry him as soon as possible. Well, they'd still had to make concrete plans and arrangements, so "as soon as possible" had become six months.

The bride glanced over at her Maid of Honor. Trish looked stunning in her baby blue backless satin gown, her rich blonde hair all swept up. She also didn't fail to notice how Jeff was unable to keep his eyes off her now that they were at the altar.

Trish winked at Amy, then shifted her gaze to her boyfriend, blowing him a small kiss. The redhead couldn't help but chuckle at the sweetness of it.

"Dear friends," the priest began as Amy gazed up into Adam's sparkling green eyes, his hand reaching for hers and clasping it gently, "we are gathered here today to unite this man and this woman in holy matrimony."

Amy felt her heart bursting with love and joy. She never would have thought it possible to be as happy as she was right now. Her life had seemed to change even more over the last six months. She'd been completely filled with horror upon finding out the truth - that Paul Heyman had been scheming for so many months, trying to literally drive her insane in a sick quest for vengeance over his nephew's suicide. She still could hardly believe the man who had kidnapped, raped and held her prisoner for nine days had been Paul's nephew.

The evidence had been turned over to the police, and Heyman had been tried. However, he hadn't been sent to prison due to the jury finding him insane. Paul was now spending his days in Creedmore, a New York mental hospital.

She was doing so much better these days. She'd continued with her therapy, and the doctor was definitely helpful to her, enabling her to deal with what she'd endured and to get through it. Her ordeal with John Heyman would forever haunt her, but the redhead knew she no longer had that crippling fear, and she'd stopped having her nightmares - flashbacks.

Adam gazed into her eyes with such love and tenderness. She felt as though she could just about melt. He recited his heartfelt vows to her, and she smiled, feeling tears of joy, love and emotion suddenly swimming in her eyes.

"... I love you always and forever, and I vow to make your life with me as close to heaven on earth as humanly possible."

The tall blond man slid the engraved gold wedding band up her ring finger, his fingers gently caressing it and her hand.

Amy bit her lip and prevented the choked sob from escaping. Slowly, her voice breaking slightly here and there, she recited her vows to him.

"Thank you, Adam Copeland... Thank you for loving me, and for protecting me..."

The Canadian cocked his head at her words, and she instantly knew what he was thinking - that she would never have to thank him for these things, or for anything.

"... You have shown me what it is to truly love - with my entire being but also my soul. And you are my soulmate," she continued with a smile.

The blond man grinned. This was truly the happiest day of his life. Close seconds would be the day he'd met Amy and the day she'd accepted his proposal.

"... I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

His face lit up completely as he lifted her veil. She was his wife - he could hardly believe it, and his happiness soared even higher.

He lowered his lips onto hers, loving the feel of the kiss - so full of love, promises and dedication. And he would continue with all three of those things and make her happy as long as there was breath in his body.

_End_


End file.
